Misery
by Perzephone
Summary: *this is NOT a mary-sue fic, promise.* Carrion's been betrothed to a princess of Day since the day they were born. Can he adapt? Will she survive? Violence, terror, agony and betrayal-- just another evening in Midnight Realm. carrionxoc. gothic horror
1. Chapter 1

*this is not a mary-sue fic, promise.* Carrion's been betrothed to a princess of Day since the day they were born. Can he adapt? Will she survive? Violence, terror, agony and betrayal-- just another evening in Midnight Realm. carrionxoc. full summary---

"Izis?" A soft, tender voice crooned from beyond the door. Said girl cringed and sunk her face lower into her arms. Dear God, the peanut gallery has arrived. There were three knocks at the door and then it creaked open, and Izis' elderly handmaiden poked her wrinkled face in. "It's time for you to meet your betrothed."

"Can't I just say I'm deathly ill with the bubonic plague, or something?" Izis didn't know what the bubonic plague was, she had heard it was some kind of Hereafter disease, but it sounded disgusting and repulsive.

"What on lordy lou's earth is a bubonic plague?" Nnewlda came through the door, all 4000 pounds of her. She waddled over. Izis swore she felt the floor rumble underneath her gargantium feet.

"Nevermind."

"Is _this_ the dress you're wearing?" Nnewlda exclaimed, sounding mortified. She had found Izis' planned outfit laid out on the bed. "How _morbid! _What about the dress your sister sent you from the Yebba Dim Day? Orange would really bring out the colour of your hair."

"My hair is _white_."

"Even better!" Nnewlda said merrily. "Now, I'm pretty sure you would want to wear Mura's little scarf and gloves... oh, you would look so cute--"

"Nnewlda, please, for the love of God, leave me be."

"Now, now," the motherly maiden sludged over to her. Izis was slouched over on the windowsill, smoking foreign cigarillos. "Oh goodness, put that out, we don't want you stinking like smoke!" Izis rolled her eyes and stubbed it out on the coral pink ashtray before her. She turned in her chair, looking up at Nnewlda's massive, flabby face. "What would your husband think!"

"That I was a trashy, good-for-nothing money-scrounger and he would divorce me in a heartbeat." Izis replied. Nnewlda blinked, trying to decide if she was being sarcastic or not.

"With that attitude," she huffed, turning away. "Come on then, we'll get you dressed in that _thing_--"

"That was my mother's." she retorted sharply and Nnewlda didn't reply, finally noticing she had crossed the line with the bad-tempered girl. "I can dress myself. Now leave." Nnewlda sighed in defeat and bowed her way out, saying she would be back in fifteen minutes to take Izis to the dining hall.

-------------------------.-------------------------

Even though I would never admit it in a thousand years, I was nervous. I stood, fully dressed, looking at myself in full-body mirror. I had a boyish body, with small breasts but I at least had a little bit of hips to boast. I was short and too skinny, as Nnewlda often pointed out as politely as possible. Sometimes, I swear that woman wanted me to be just a plump little housewife with a hundred kids puttering around. God, I would rather... I don't know what I would rather do, but it wouldn't be pleasant at all. My hair was white. So was my mom's, and my grandma's, and my great-grandma's, and probably all the grandmas down the list had white hair. It was down. It was too straight. Dad often said it would give my angular face volume if I curled it, like mom had.

Whatever. The dress revealed all of my back, which I admit to myself was my best feature. The dress itself was black, sleeveless, with a low v-neck that at least gave me some kind of bust. Hey, I liked looking good, even though I wasn't keen on impressing anyone. Okay, I lie. Not like I would ever admit it though. I slid on mom's silver bracelets, putting the gold arm bands around my biceps and fitting in the silver hoop earings my sister had given me. Mura had a terrible taste in fashion, except when it came to earrings. For a choker? Hmmmm. I looked through my jewellery box and chose a nice silver one. My eyes were probably the most plainest brown ever, so I put on some kohl to make them pop out. That always looks nice, eh?

Nnewlda had wanted me to wear the hideous orange sundress Mura had sent me. God, I would rather hang myself with it then wear it. It was still in its box under my bed, where it would fester and rot. I was smoking another cigarillo-- Nnewlda and my fiance could go to hell. Not like I had _wanted _this, but apparently it was time for the Night and the Day to reunite. And what better way then to marry the youngest of the Day family off? I wish it was Mura, she was the princess.

Nnewlda returned moments later. She knocked and then entered. I turned to face her. Her face softened. "You look _gorgeous_." she said joyfully. I rolled my eyes. "Come now, everyone's waiting!"

"Really?" I groaned.

"Well, actually, Lord Carrion has just docked in with his ship on the island, with his grandmother. Your father is waiting for you, if impatiently I might add." I sighed and allowed Nnewlda drag me out the door. As we walked through the sunny halls, I realized that I was going to miss this place a little. Although the prospect of living in eternal darkness sounded a _little _bearable, I was going to dread being away from my family, as much as I hated to admit it. The golden statues, the cherubic angels, pastels of pink and gold and blue, watercolour emotions and tinkling laughter. White marble and kind words. Nnewlda had suggested she come with me and I stamped that idea out quite firmly. I know I had hurt her feelings, probably quite badly, but I was sick and tired of being taken care of, fonded over, my cheeks pinched by drunk relatives and flabby hands adjusting my clothes around me everytime I walked out the damn door. I had no _privacy, _and that was one thing I had always wanted before anything else.

We entered the dining hall, and my father and his subjects were sitting at the long table, waiting for me. They rose as I entered. Dad looked annoyed but he smiled anyways when he saw me.

"Dear Lord," he said as I sat down next to him. The others followed suit. "Your mother was wearing that dress when I met her. Blew my mind." I smiled. I loved it when dad talked about mom. "So, dear, you ready?" he gave me an encouraging look. I glanced at the bottles of wine situated around the table and my eyes narrowed.

"If you give me a few glasses of that, then yes." I pointed to the wine before me and dad chortled.

"I think it best if you meet your new husband sober, darling." his smile faded a little. "Although, you may need it." An afterthought. Oh boy.

"Is he as hideous as everyone says?" I asked. I was expecting a massively overweight dude with lots of body hair and sweating like a pig, and I thought about swallowing the dinner knife before me on the table if it came to that. No way in hell I was going to be having kids. Or even get intimate. The more I thought about this, the more I dreaded this meeting.

Dad opened his mouth to reply, when the butler Ramsel entered, making a grand entrance as per usual.

"M'Lord, Christopher Carrion has arrived." Ramsel said grandly, and there was a hint of distaste in his voice. My stomach clenched uncomfortably and I gripped my dad's hand under the table. God, if anyone saw me do that, I would have them killed. He squeezed it comfortingly.

"Relax. If he harms you, I will put him through the proverbial meat grinder." That caused me to snort a laugh. Nnewlda flinched at my right. Now _she _was embarassing.

"Okay."

"Send him in then! Don't be rude!" Dad called merrily, cracking open the wine. The cork shot to the ceiling and ricocheted, nearly gutting one of his servants. He laughed and poured himself a glass-- a much larger glass then usual-- and I noticed finally that this pained him even more then me. I felt bad for thinking selfish thoughts earlier. I had planned never to speak to my father again, after I had learned of the engagement last month.

Ramsel nodded, dipped out, and returned minutes later. In stepped two disgusting servents from Gorgossium. Most of them were scarred and there eyes were stark yellow. Then entered a man with criss-cross scars on his face. Then an ancient woman that looked like she had her entire skeletal structure crushed several times hobbled in. On her arm was an extremely tall man in black robes. His face was skeletal and his flesh grey, mouth horribly marred by what looked like remains of stitches. His eyes were the most intense cerulean blue I had ever seen and they swept the room before falling on me. I bit my tongue. _Oh Lord._ I thought. A large, vase-like contraption surrounded his face, and little worm like things flashed around in there.

"Is that him?" I hissed out of the corner of my mouth. A smile was plastered on my father's face and I couldn't tell if it was fake or not. He nodded.

"Yes, indeed."

I noticed as he walked closer, that two large metal wires were cemented to his skull and seemed to be feeding into the blue liquid in his glass contraption. I couldn't imagine myself kissing him. That would be hard.

"Mater Motley!" Dad boomed. "Get your saucy tart over here and give me a hug!" Motley wrinkled her nose and didn't embrace my father back, who didn't seem to care. I was kind of worried Motley was going to slit his throat if he wasn't careful. She looked rather unhinged. Her grandson hadn't taken his eyes off of me and I was feeling uncomfortable. I stared at my dad instead. He shook Carrion's hand. "Pleasure to see you again, Christopher! You look not a day above ninety!" he laughed. Several of his subjects tittered as well. "I am only joking." my father suddenly turned serious, and business-like. "I have someone you may want to meet."

"Thank you for inviting us here, Danver." Motley said, her lips peeling back from her stumpy green teeth in what I supposed was supposed to resemble a smile. I hoped I wouldn't have to have bonding time with her once we returned to Midnight. The wedding was supposed to be there. Tomorrow. Twelve o clock sharp, ha ha ha, I wanted to choke on my tongue.

"Of course, my dear. Anyways, I believe it's time that your grandson meet my daughter." he extended his arm towards me, and I creaked my mouth into something that I hoped resembled a smile. "Come here, darling." he beckoned me over and I trundled over, resigned. I stood next to him, looking up at Carrion. His gaze was unreadable, but unbelievably powerful. I felt almost hypnotized. You know the saying the eyes are the windows to the soul? This man brought the meaning to life. "Christopher Carrion, this is my daughter Izis, your _new wife." _the words sounded so foreign I nearly cringed, but I remained composed. "Izis, dear, this is your new _husband_, Christopher." After a few seconds my dad nudged me and I extended my hand. I suppose the proper way would be to kiss it, but with that thing around his face that impossible.

"Nice to meet you." I droned monotonously. He shook my hand.

"Mm." Carrion replied. He held my grasp for a few moments longer, as if trying to feel something more then my physical touch. Our hands fell away. Dad was prattling on to Motley, who looked annoyed. I knew he was only trying to make the situation less awkward for me, and less depressing for himself. Dad could have been an actor, and an extremely talented one at that. Eventually, father ushered us back to the table to eat.

I sat next to Carrion, of course. I had to. Couldn't be rude. Motley was on the other side of his grandson. I met the scarred man, who was a powerful lieutenant in Carrion's army. His name was Otto Houlihan and he kissed the top of my hand and smirked at me. That made my insides grow cold with fear. Not even Carrion had caused that reaction to me. I just picked at my food. Carrion didn't eat at all. How could he, with that thing on his face? Otto and dad were engaged in conversation. Motley wasn't talking to anybody. She looked like she would rather be dead then be here. I couldn't blame her.

Once dad nudged my leg from under the table, giving me a warning glance when Carrion wasn't looking. _Talk to the man! _his look told me. Then it turned pleading. _Please, my girl, try to love him. _I looked at Carrion. He looked like he was faraway, in another world, perhaps dreaming of another girl? I sighed.

"Aren't you hungry?" I ground out. Carrion looked at me. "Oh yeah." I said, foolishly forgetting that he had the contraption on his face. "Eh... are you like, eternally drowning?"

"No." he replied. His tone was calm, serene, powerful, deep. It shook me to the core. I could see why he was one of the most feared men in the Abarat. Maybe even the _most _feared. He looked odd in the sunlight shining through the windows. The whole Midnight family did, here. The subjects and servents and maids were all uneasy, their laughter forced and their joy fake. I caught looks of pity. I scowled back. Go to hell, I thought. Besides my dad, I don't think I was going to miss this place at all. Perhaps I was even excited for it. This place was boring, where nightmares didn't exist. Sometimes I wondered if I should have been born in the Midnight hour. I certainly thought a raven was more appealing then a dove, a dead flower more useful then a living one. "Magick allows me to breathe."

"Ah. Of course. Magick." I tried a laugh and failed miserably. "Shocker there."

By now, dad had gone through two bottles of wine and was starting on his third. We had been here for forty minutes already, and he was _plastered. _He thought it would be a good idea to start his annual ritual of initiation dance, which consisted of him jumping on the highest platform he could find near him, and then force his servents to make some sort of beat and sing while he danced the "eternal sun and happiness dance". It was quite a humourous sight. Dad and the uncles had put it together when they were still wild and crazy teenagers on the shores of the Yebba Dim Day. Normally watching him dance made me laugh hysterically until I cried. Except today.

"Say, say! Izis, dear, participate in the annual ritual of initiation!" he said happily, cheeks a bright red. He spilled his wine. "Clumsy me!" he laughed. He had spilled some of it on Motley's dress and a vein was bulging in her cheekbone. A servent rushed forward to clean the spill. Dad had forgotten about it already.

"I would rather swallow my tongue." I retorted. He squealed.

"Oooh, you are _dark!_" he pinched my cheek and I batted his hand away, flushing angrily. "Come now, let the festivities begin! Barker, Bailey, start the song and dance!"

"Dad... no..." I stood up as dad got on the table. Motley gaped at him, mortified. My father's main servents, Barker and Bailey, were probably equally as drunk and started pounding on the table in an awkward beat and started singing, very off key. Father continued to make an utter idiot out of himself. Houlihan was roaring with laughter.

"Come with me." I said. I didn't want Carrion to see this. I would never be able to look at him in the face again. He arose after a second, and he followed me out onto the balcony.

"I hate my gene pool." I commented, lighting a cigarillo. I leaned on the railing. I heard a crash from within and rubbed my forehead. "I'm sorry. He gets a little carried away with the wine sometimes."

"It's fine." he replied. I didn't dislike him, but I didn't like him. He looked monstrous, to be sure-- and I was aware that beauty was not only skin deep-- but even though I had heard many terrible things about him, for some reason, I was just...not..._afraid. _Maybe because I had always wanted my prince in shining armour to be a vampire, or I dreamed of stitched monsters and flyswatters and over-sized insects. My journals and diaries were filled with horror stories, novellas, poetry. While Mura had become a human/animal-rights activist across the Abarat, and our eldest sister Sukanne was exploring the depths of the sea, I had just wanted to be a writer, or something quiet like that. Something that would let me be _alone. _"Are you ready to return to Midnight, later?" he asked.

"I guess."

"I have rooms and maids awaiting you. Clothes, and other assortments." I looked at him, nodding.

"Thank you. I didn't get you anything." I replied.

"That is alright." he didn't sound surprised, or hurt, or upset. Good. I would have to make him a card, or something. I realized how stupid... God, I didn't know how this was going to go down. I got more and more nervous being near my fiance. He looked so _dangerous_. An embodiment of nightmares. I realized I was staring but he didn't appear to notice. He looked so strange in the sunlight, so threatening and angry.

"Okay." I looked back towards the dining room. Dad had gotten off the table; in fact, he wasn't even in the room. Motley looked awkwardly alone in her chair, sipping the wine. She caught my eye and she didn't smile. I didn't smile at her, either. "That is your grandma?"

"Yes. She creates the stitchlings."

"What are those?"

"Pieces of left over flesh and parchment, filled with living mud... she stitches them together. They serve as soldiers in my army." Carrion explained. I was a little mortified, but not shocked or surprised.

"Oh. Sounds..."

"Terrible." he finished for me. I had meant to say something completely different, but I guessed there was no point trying to lie about how I really felt.

"That fits well."

"You don't have to pretend. I know most people do not enjoy my company, or my profession, or even want anything to do with me." a bitter smile traced his scarred, lipless mouth.

"Yeah." I stepped towards the dining room, and then halted. "Do you want to come back in? My dad's gone."

"Alright."

We walked back into the dining hall. I stepped over to the butler. Ramsel was cleaning up spilled wine with a cloth and his foot, still looking dignified.

"Is that how a man mops the floor?" I asked him.

"Quite. I assume you are looking for your father?"

"Yes."

"He is emptying his stomach in the lavatory with Bailey."

"Charming..." I wondered over to my seat, now a little embarassed. Normally I would be taking secret pleasure in this, for my father's drunks are always spectacles to watch. But under the intense eye of Christopher Carrion, it was a little humiliating. "I guess the dinner is over then, eh." I said to Ramsel, picking up my own wine glass and topping it up. I glanced at Carrion. He looked very out of place and irritated. He must think we're all alcoholics.

"I think that is an accurate assumption, Izis."

"What time do we leave?" I asked Carrion.

"Whenever you wish, but prefferably soon."

"I think my dad..." I glanced towards the washroom. Bailey came out, holding a wine bottle. I looked away. "Okay. Let me go change. Then we can go."

"Of course." I turned away, and then remembered to curtsy. I turned around and curtsied low. "It was a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise."

I left.

---------------~--------------

Nnewlda had followed me into my rooms. She was hawking at me about the wine consumption and prattling on about how unruly and humiliating my father could be.

"Give him a break." I retorted, pulling off my dress and getting into the one Nnewlda held me. It was a simple, pleasurable scarlet. I pulled on high boots and a long coat, twisting my hair up into a chignon. I pulled on some gloves and turned to Nnewlda. She was looking at me, fondly. She looked very sad, and I felt her emotion reflect through me. "Nelly," I extended my arms towards her and she flew to me, hugging me so hard she lifted me off my feet. I patted her back, and when she let me go my eyes were getting wet. "I'll write to you."

"And I will reply." she wiped a stray tear from my cheekbone. "Stay strong, my lady. Even though you are now the Queen of Midnight, there are still so, _so _many dangers out there for you." she was nearly about to start crying. I nodded and left. Three of my handmaidens, to accompany on the journey, trailed behind me, Nnewlda bringing up the rear.

Carrion intimidated me, without a doubt. I came to close to clamming up on him everytime I tried to speak with him. He offered me his arm at the gates, which I took. The date in which I was to travel was kept remarkably silent. My father, our subjects and whoever cared enough in the kingdom had assembled at the harbour. Dad hugged me. He still reeked of wine but he was crying.

"I love you, darling." he said.

"Love you too." I said, now trying my hardest not to cry either. My shoulders were shaking and my lower lip trembling and I kept rubbing my eyes. Carrion was silent, and I clammed up on him. I said goodbye to everyone. Then, I followed Carrion, Houlihan and Motley, and all of their subjects towards the boat. I walked the gangplank next to Carrion. I stepped onto the front deck, and what I guessed were stitchlings gaurding the cabin door. Sailors walked around, bolting up and down the mast. Two of them dragged the gangplank up. I turned at the railing, but I couldn't bare look at my family.

I followed Carrion into the cabin. The door shut behind me.


	2. Touch of Grey

**Disclaimer **i don't own anything by clive barker. i only own izis.

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The cabin was dark. I guess I better get used to it. Motley had disappeared, and I was left alone with Carrion-- completely alone. The cabin was dark, but large. I had my back turned to Carrion. I was slipping off my jacket, looking around, when cold hands took the collar of my coat and slipped it off for me. "Thank you." I said, turning. In the dim lamplight by the doorway, he looked so sinister and fearful in his natural element that my heart started to speed up. Fear gripped me. I bit my lip. Butterflies surged in my stomach. I guess I was more comfortable at home in the sunlight-- but now, in the dark, heading away from my home, I realized how vulnerable I was.

"Your welcome. I brought you something... if you are interested."

"Oh? Lovely." he swept past me silently. He obviously felt so much more at ease in the dark. He stepped towards a table, that was pushed towards the left wall. He opened a box and lifted out something, turning it over in his incredibly long fingers. Then, he turned towards me, surveying me from his distance.

"Are you?"

"Yeah. Yes. I am." he nodded and walked over to me, holding out his hand. I extended mine as well. His other came to hold mine underneath, and his cool, rough flesh hinted at the power underneath. He put in my hand something round, small and _alive. _I flinched and tried to jerk my hand away. It was furry. He held my hand tighter.

"Don't move." he said. I watched, in amazement, as the small black ball unfurled itself into a creature. It was just a simple black puff of fur, no bigger then a baseball. It had tiny blue eyes that shone like needlepoints and a small mouth with little, pointy teeth. It made a little purring noise and then crooned. It shuffled on little tiny hamster feet. As I relaxed, Carrion released my hand.

"What is it?" I asked, peering at it, still keeping my hand outstretched.

"A gwelfie, from the Yebba Dim Day."

"Oh."

"I figured you would like something to keep you company when I am on business. It was very costly, so don't kill it."

"I see. Thank you." I held the thing closer, looking at it. It let out a little growl. I was starting to realize how adorable it was. I stroked its head and it shuddered and purred. "Is it a he or she?"

"It is an amaphrodite. It has no gender."

"Oh... okay, I see." I stroked it again and it shuddered again, curling back up into a little ball. Then, it surged up my arm. I yelped a little, and it nestled into my neck, where it balanced perfectly. It wondered up and down my shoulder for a moment, before settling itself into my skin near my neck. It let out a little, contented squeak and I assume it went to sleep, for it made no further noise or movement. "Thank you," I said again.

"Your welcome." Carrion turned away, towards the door. "I shall leave you?"

"Okay." he nodded and then exited onto the deck. I stood, listless and afraid, and then walked over to the plush violet couch. I realized how bad my legs were shaking as I walked. I sat down heavily, absently reaching up to touch the gwelfie's soft fur. It purred as I stroked it. My mind was buzzing and I felt a little ill. The steady rocking of the boat didn't upset me-- I had my mother's sea legs-- but the entire situation made me ill. I wondered if it would be worth it if I flung myself overboard and drowned. Maybe get eaten alive by some disgusting monster. I let my hair down, and the gwelfie chirped at the white curtain that now surrounded it.

My wedding was tomorrow, and that made my heart slam. My dad and sisters were going to be there. I didn't really have any friends, none worth coming. Dad and Nnewlda always said I was a bit of a recluse. I wasn't very interested in the drama that came with friends and boyfriends. Any friends I had, they never stuck around for long. I didn't care. So, I guess that cleared up one thing for me-- I wouldn't have to worry about being alone. I didn't know if Carrion was going to make good company. I know for sure that Motley wasn't. Houlihan... well, that guy gave me bad vibes. I reminded myself to keep my distance from him.

There was a soft knocking at the door and I tensed, wondering who could be on the other side. I didn't reply, pretending I didn't hear. I slid one of my legs over the other one, biting my lip and taking the gwelfie off my shoulder and holding it my hands. I squeezed it a little. It let out a few chirps that didn't sound like it was in pain. I squeezed it harder, and to my surprise the little eyes and mouth and a little puff of hair came out of one part of my hand, the rest thinning out, and a little fat ball of fluff with its feet on the other end. I wondered if I could stretch it. I decided not to. I squeezed and relaxed, and the gwelfie seemed to enjoy it. I think I have just found my own stress ball.

The door opened and I looked at it sharply. A young lady stepped inside. She had jet black hair in a high ponytail, her skin marble white and smooth, with no blemishes. I myself had a few acne scars and was in the middle of one right now, across my forehead. In fact, this girl embodied perfection-- I still needed to shave my legs (thank god for pantaloons), pluck my eyebrows and brush my teeth. She was in a standard black and white maid uniform. She smiled and curtsied. Her eyes were emerald green and I thought of a cat.

"Good evening,"

"We're there already?" she smiled.

"Almost."

"Okay. Continue."

"My name is Chase; I am to be your maiden for this voyage."

"When will we be there?"

"I'd say, another hour."

"I can handle myself."

"As you wish, my lady." she bowed out and quietly shut the door. I fumbled for my cigars and used a match to light it. The gwelfie had curled itself up on my lap, which I had started stroking again. The air felt a little thick, and I felt it hard to breathe. Maybe that was the tightening of my chest; maybe that my fear. Maybe it was both. I began to cry.

---------------------------~-------------------------

It took me a while to regain control of myself. The gwelfie was whimpering while I cried, which made my situation seem so much more worse. I wiped my eyes and nose roughly, running my tongue over my dry lips. The gwelfie was looking up at me. Its blue eyes were wide and looked fearful. I stroked it. I had decided to name it Creep. I don't know why its name was Creep-- but it seemed fitting and cute enough to suit it. I was smoking another cigarillo and it helped me calm down. I was finally standing again, exploring the dark cabin, when someone else knocked on the door. It was louder then Chase's, and I hoped this wasn't her, either. In fact, I did not want to see anyone.

"Come in." I barked. The door opened and to my dismay Otto Houlihan stepped through. He was tall-- not as tall as Carrion-- and struck quite the imposing figure. I froze and Creep felt my distress and let out a little snarl. He was back on my shoulder and hiding in the curtain of my hair. Houlihan dropped to one knee.

"My lady," he said. I could not tell the tone of his voice, but I heard scorn and spite and cruel glee. "Lord Carrion has appointed me as your gaurdian, as I am the most trusted of his subdorminates." he said. My stomach clenched uncomfortably and my voice froze in my throat. Houlihan must have noticed that he was not going to recieve an answer from me, so he continued. "Also, he requests your presence. Are you available?"

"Why does he need to see me?" I sounded rude, but I couldn't help it.

"He wonders of your state." I suppose Carrion also instructed him to be as formal as possible. "He wonders why you have chosen to stay in the cabin for the entire voyage."

"I-- I,"

"No explanation is needed, least of all to me, my lady." he did not seem like the kind of man to be so polite, so I figured he was just kissing ass, although I knew in my gut he could twist my head off whenever the hell he wanted to-- or whenever Carrion demanded it. The idea of such a thing made my stomach twist in icy fear and I nodded curtly.

"Where is he?"

"On the deck."

"If he wants to see me..." I trailed off, biting my lower lip. "He can. I don't want to leave." I was afraid I was going to break down and start crying if I went outside. If I went out there and the sky was black and the stars were shining, I could not handle it.

"Understood. I shall leave you be." he said, standing and leaving abruptly. The door shut quietly behind him and I was left shaking, and Creep, maybe unable to handle the negative energy, squealed in my ear. I picked him into my hand, sitting back down on the couch. I lay down uncomfortably, curling up as tightly as I could. I tried to calm my breathing and my heart, slow my thoughts. Creep lay in my hair, twitching. I wondered if it felt the same emotions I did. At least, Creep was here. Even though he was probably the most useless piece of comfort, it was nice to have something breathing on my ear.

I thought of our wedding day, and how bad it could go. I couldn't see how it was going to get any better from here. Thoughts to the wedding night made me shudder. I had never been intimate with anyone, and I was going to lose my virginity to Christopher Carrion, sooner or later. That made me want to cry again and I bit the inside of my cheek until it bled and I came back onto a steady mental plane. I sat up. Perhaps it was time to leave the cabin, before Carrion thought I was commiting suicide. I slid on my coat and Creep scuttled into my pocket. I got up and walked over to the door, listening to the distant sound of voices and other industrial things going on outside. I took a deep breath, preparing myself. It took me five minutes. Then, I opened the door and stepped out.

The fresh air did me good, that was the first thing I noticed. The sky _was _dark, and the first thing I saw was Gorgossium looming in the short distance. The door slid shut behind me. I looked around. I saw neither Carrion, Houlihan or Motley, which I was thankful for. I stepped towards the bow. It looked like a woman writhing in agony was carved to the spear of the ship. I gingerly stepped towards it. Stitchlings and sailors alike ignored me and kept their distance. They knew who I was. I licked my lips again, and folded my arms. The air was cool and refreshing-- but cold. My breath was visible on the air and I was shocked at the freezing rush of sea spray that pebbled my cheeks as a large wave smashed against the boat, rocking it.

"You're cold." I would have leapt out of my skin if I wasn't already so tense and ready for anything. I turned and looked up at my fiance.

"A little."

"Go back inside."

"But-- "

"What?" I looked away from him, stuttering. I felt like an idiot. I felt so _lost_, so incredibly _lost_, that I wanted to cry again. I gritted my teeth. I wanted my mother.

"Nevermind." I walked past him and back into the cabin. The warmth was a slight relief, and the silence was more comforting then the action going on outside. A few seconds later the door opened again and Carrion stepped inside, shutting it. I faced him, struggling to be brave, but it wasn't working.

"Izis," my name sounded so strange and foreign on his tongue. It made me embarassed by it. "Must I give you the option?"

"What option?"

"Either we return to your home immediately, and I leave you. For you don't appear to want to be here. With me. I'll understand. I'm quite the hideous sight." he smiled bitterly and his eyes betrayed no emotion. I did not know the life-story of Carrion yet, so I assumed he was just being diplomatic. I considered it. Leave, and disappoint the kingdom. Torment myself with guilt. Or, go with him, and see how it goes, and bring peace to the Abarat archiplego. I shook my head.

"I want to stay." The words fell from my mouth and I tried to keep the sorrow out of my voice. I don't know if I can ever love this man. As if reading my thoughts, he replied.

"I will try to love you, Izis." the word 'love' sounded so foreign and forced that it didn't sound genuine at all. "I don't expect the same from you. At least, for your sake of sanity, pretend."

"I don't have to pretend anything." I regretted those words as soon as they left my mouth. _oh God Izis, you really done it now._ I thought miserably. He had a curious expression on his face, and I stammered. He waited. "Wh-what I mean... Carrion-- _Christopher_--" I was blushing fiercely now, feeling like a royal ass. "My Lord, what I mean is, that I won't... play with you."

"Thank you," he said slowly, as if unsure whether to believe me or not. "For your consideration of my feelings."

"No problem." I said quickly.

"I can tell you are distressed, so I will leave you." He took one last, long look at me, and then was out the door.

-----------------------~--------------------------

When we arrived on shore of Midnight, Chase got me. She put on my jacket for me and led me out the door, while I squeezed Creep, who tittered and squealed. There was a light rain falling, and it hit my face and it was refreshing, to say the least. It was midnight. Gorgossium loomed before me, its jagged peaks and ragged cliffs looming overhead. Red, snake-like mists floated near the top of the island, where I presumed the fabled thirteen towers stood. The mist almost seemed to have a life of its own. Carrion came to stand beside me. He offered me his arm, which I took, and I kept close to him as we walked down the gangplank.

The whole of the Midnight kingdom was there, at the harbour. I felt my stomach plummet and my breath caught in my throat. Hundreds of curious faces looked up at me, although most of the curious faces had a malicious underlook. It was overwhelming. I swallowed hard. "Come." Carrion said, continuing to walk up the gravel pathway that had been cleared. Every five feet Gorgossium soldiers stood, waiting for anything to happen. Any wrong-doing would be punished with the scythes each of them carried. I heard hostile whispers and several of the onlookers shook their heads. Creep scooted up the sleeve of my jacket and hid on my forearm, digging his little feet in. Now I looked just absurd with the sleeve all pouted out in one place, so I tried to shake him out without anyone noticing. It didn't work so I had to turn my arm inwards so I looked like a gimp. I could feel everyone's eyes on me, and a blush creeped down from my forehead to my neck.

It seemed to take _forever _to reach the carriage. It was a large, gothic thing, with two huge black horses snorting and grinding at the ground impatiently, swinging their magnificent heads. Carrion got into another one, followed by a grisly looking butler. The door shut and he rode off, and I was left alone. With his lukewarm hold on me no longer, I felt even more uneasy. Chase lightly touched my shoulder and I jumped. She had startled me. She looked aqualine in the night, like a goddess. "Please, my lady, it's time to go." The carriage driver opened the door for me, and I stepped up, forgetting to pull up my dress and almost falling flat on my face.

"_Damn!_" I swore, collapsing onto the seat. Chase followed me in, politely smiling. She sat across from me. "Sorry." I mumbled, looking out the window. The carriage took off, the ride more or less smooth. Chase was quiet. I lit another cigarillo and gnawed on my lower lip. As we travelled through dark paths, the full reality of my situation settled upon my shoulders and my breath got caught in my throat and my stomach clenched. _This is really happening. I'm getting married._ I thought, the icy grip of fear surrounding me. I started to sweat a little, and my mouth went dry. I didn't know if I could do this; I should have just taken up Carrion's offer on the boat to leave. I wanted my father with me, even my sisters, and above all I wanted my mother. I let out a shaky breath.

"Nerves?" I looked up, and saw Chase politely smiling at me. I wasn't offended. I nodded. I was never that big on manners. Most of the time I was alone and Nnewlda asked me the most random of things, such as; did you get your period? There's blood on the blankets! God, that was always embarassing. Or when she would fuss with my dress during banquets. I didn't chastise Chase at all. Just nodded.

"Yes."

"Pardon my saying, if it's not too bold, but I would be too."

"Scraped the line there." Chase smiled and bowed her head.

"I apologize." I didn't reply, just returned to looking back out the window, letting loose another shaky sigh. I stubbed out my cigarillo in the provided ashtray and closed my eyes and tried to shrug off the tension. It didn't work. I felt tears well up behind my lids and I bit my lip very hard, until I flinched. No time to cry-- this was _not _the place to cry. What would Carrion think if they dragged his new bride out and she was crying and screaming and trying to claw her way back in? Man, that would be a blow. I mentally shook myself over and over again until I could breathe easily again. Creep puttered around my lap. Chase was giving it a look of great distaste, like it carried some filthy disease. I stroked its head with my fingers. It chittered pleasantly. The carriage rocked and bungled until it came to a stop.

"We're here." Chase said, almost cryptically, her diamond eyes glittering in the dark. The door opened and I took Chase's arm, who helped me out. As soon as my feet were on the gravel I started to shake again and I clung to Chase. The tower loomed overhead, red and black clouds misting and trailing around the higher portion. For a moment I imagined plummeting from the top of the tower and onto the ground where I stood and as we approached the tower with two gaurds flanking us and one behind, I thought I could almost feel the wind whistling in my ears.

I shoved the thought away as we entered. The door clattered shut behind us, forebodingly, as if being slammed by angry spirits. The architecture of the place was gloomy and macabre-- massive portraits decorated the walls, most of the people painted deformed in some terrible way, but dressed in royal clothes. My shoes echoed off the polished marble floor. Large beams supported the ceiling. A winding staircase in the middle of the room led up and up, to who knows where.

"Where are we?" I asked quietly. Chase inclined her head towards me.

"The tower in which you and Lord Carrion will live." she replied just as softly.

"Where does Mater Motley stay?"

"At the very top, where she makes the stitchlings." My feet got a little cold and I stunted in walking. Chase looked at me curiously.

"She's sewing bits of skin and mud together as we speak?" I hissed. Chase giggled a little.

"Yes, she is."

"Lovely." I said under my breath.

"I will show you to your rooms."

"I won't be sleeping with Carrion-- Lord Carrion?" Chase shook her head.

"Unless you want too. I'm sure his majesty wouldn't mind." she said. Chase sounded a little... odd, by the way she said it. I couldn't figure it out but I was too busy to take in the surroundings as we walked up the stairs. They were sturdy and marble. The banisters were a rich, deep dark mahogany and the expensive carpet underneath my feet looked foreign; black with red and purple designs etched into it. I looked up and saw that this stairwell winded up and up, with other little sections that held rooms and balconies and landings. "You are on the tenth floor, directly underneath Lord Carrion." Chase explained. I was going to dread walking up and down these stairs... I nodded.

"Okay." We passed all manners of doors and hallways, some that couldn't possible be there. After all, the architecture of the tower were certainly limiting, and perhaps by some magic illusion was created? There were sparse candles, and everyone I came across seemed of ill health, sallow skinned and deep rings around their eyes. I wondered how long it would take until I looked like that. I wondered if I would ever end up in Motley's seat, stitching those creatures together endlessly, alone, tormented. The thought wasn't comforting.

Finally, we reached my rooms. Chase opened the huge double doors for me, allowing me to step through. The room must have been recently renovated. The blinds surrounding the window were a deep, royal blue, pulled back to let in the night air. Stars twinkled in the sky, but they looked far away and out of reach. Taunting, almost. I looked away from the window and looked around my room. A large bureau with a wash basin and a vanity mirror were to the far left, a fireplace that was burning a pleasant red fire that filled the room with organic warmth. Black and red roses rested on the table next to the large bed. Red satin sheets covered it, looking as soft and translucent as water. Or blood. There was a huge walk in closet to the far right. The window faced out towards the ocean, which I could see lapping back and forth. I shrugged off my coat and Chase took it from me immediately. Bundling it up under her arm, she walked to the bureau and lit a candle, and then one next to the vase of flowers by my bed.

"Thank you."

"Lord Carrion has sent your clothes already; they are in your closet. Also, I was told to give you this." She reached inside her delicate black coat and pulled out an envelope. She put it facedown on the bureau, next to the candle. I took a glance to the hallway. Could I make it if I ran? I shrugged the foolish thought away and nodded. I had lost the will to speak. My words tangled in my throat and roosted there. "And you may also notice when you enter your closet, you'll find an arrangement of dresses, jewellery and other such things that Carrion sent for you from across the Abarat. We hope you enjoy them." Chase bowed deeply. "I will leave you to get used to your surroundings, _my lady_."

She walked out without another word, shutting the doors behind her. They closed and sealed me, and suddenly the large room got so much smaller. I looked at the envelope she had placed on my bureau and walked over to it. I turned it over in my hand. In curly, elegant handwriting were the words _Lady Izis._ The ink that had been used was thick and red and sickly. The wax seal on the back bore the crest of the Carrion family. I opened the letter and pulled out the sheath of paper, unfolding it. Before I fully read it, I sat myself down on the bed and was pleased at the comfort of the mattress. I looked down and read the letter.

_Dear Izis,_

_As to assist your welcome and to my hopes, your enjoyable arrival, I ask of your presence at dinner tonight. I stipulate that you can refuse. I will understand. However, your presence would be welcomed, as being my bride, it only seems right a lady will stand next to her future husband. _

_Christopher Carrion_

The letter was short and to the point, but it made my heart beat faster. I bit my lip. Creep scuttled about the bed, bouncing up and down and thoroughly enjoying himself. Meanwhile, my insides crawled. He said I could refuse, but the last line made it clear it was a privately veiled demand. I let my breath whistle out of my mouth and I put the letter on the bedside table. I plucked a red rose from the vase and crossed one leg over the other, playing with the long stem. A petal landed on my dress. It looked like a spot of blood. I flicked it off and put the rose over top of the letter. I got up and started to explore my new surroundings. A bookshelf rested over the mantelpiece of the fire. There was maybe a dozen or so heavy-bound books all about the history and battles of the Abarat. I looked at the dusty spines and then moved onto the washroom.

It was considerably large, with a large sink and an assortment of bath and makeup products. Soaps, shampoos, scents, lotions-- the whole works. The mirror was encased in a gothic clasp. A dragon's head, carved from the greenish-black wood, snarled at the wall overhead eternally, its delicate claws clasping the mirror in place. A work of art for this place, indeed. The bath was quite big, and most oddly it had six or seven different taps. I turned one. To my surprise, a light pink liquid spurted out. I watched it fill the tub for a moment, streaming down the drain. And then, the most delicious scent of peppermint candy filled my nose. It was scented water! I ran my fingers underneath the steam of water. It felt almost silky. I turned off the tap, and tried another one. Cerulean blue water, just like Carrion's eyes. It smelled of rain. The rest of the taps were regular water, except another one-- the water came out blood red, and reeked of cinammon. I amused myself with the bath for a bit, and then travelled to my closet.

Quite clearly, I had a darker wardrobe then most of in the inhabitants of the Day hours. I enjoyed neutral colors, cold colors-- midnight blue, royal purple, wine red, black, grey, dark, mossy greens and silver jewellery. I looked at the clothes Carrion had gotten for me. Perhaps another person would think that he was dressing them up like a doll to suit his wants and desires-- I personally found it rather sweet. Princess Boa crossed my mind. Not even two years ago she was brutally dragged from the alter and choked to death before the entire kingdom. I had not been there-- I had been sick with phenomnia-- therefore I did not see the terrible sight. Boa's father lost all composure and the last of his sanity after the death of his daughter and handed the kingdom over my own father, who had ruled ever since. Uncle had passed away nigh eleven months ago. The doctor said it was liver failure from his alcoholism; dad said he died from a broken heart.

There was at least six of them, and I figured I would be better off going to Carrion's dinner wearing one of the dresses he got me. Briefly I wondered about my wedding dress but disregarded the fact, for even though it was to be tomorrow, I could not think of the wedding. I pulled out a sleek black thing and thought of taking a bath, but decided not too. I had enough perfumes and scents in the bathroom to fill a row on a shelf in a store. I slid on the dress. It was sleek and form fitting. It had a black collar, a sleeve missing and the other flowering at my elbow. Bright red flowers and a bright green water dragon curled around my sides, expertly stitched. I went into the bathroom and to occupy myself until the dinner hour came (I had no idea when that was), I did my hair. I curled it a little, leaving it down, giving wavy lengths and soft curls to it.

When I was satisfied with my hair (every girl knows when she looks good, and my hair was looking good, despite travelling by sea and carriage), I put on my makeup. I was finishing up tracing kohl around my eyes when a soft knock came at the bathroom door. "My Lady?" It was Chase. I opened the door and she curtsied. "I hope you read the letter?"

"Obviously." Chase looked up and saw that I had indeed prepared for it to the extent. "I only need some jewellery." Chase nodded.

"You look beautiful, if you don't mind me saying." I snorted. She probably said that to every woman of high power that she tended to. I was to be no different. I pulled on a few silver bracelets for my exposed arm and the golden arm band my mom once wore to a banquet. Chase showed me a jewellery box where Carrion had ordered in some pretty huge diamonds and all the rhinestones in the rainbow. Chase fitted me in blood red earrings to compliment the red chalk I had lightly traced over my lips. I chose no rings. If I was to have a golden one wrapped around my ring finger already, I didn't need even more.

"Ready?" Chase asked. I nodded. She escorted me all the way down to the second floor, where the dining hall rested. Once again I was blown away by the timeless illusions; the stairs seemed to wind down and down until you would think you would never reach the bottom. It made me slightly queasy, looking over the edge. It would be simple to throw someone down there and they would fall for a long, long time until they splattered across the stone base. Eventually we came to the dining hall. The doors were closed and I could hear nothing from where I was in the hallway. "I leave you here, my lady. Enjoy our exquisite delicacies." Chase opened the door for me and I entered.

The room was vast, once again defying all that was natural in this godforsaken place. An extremely long table rested in the middle of the large room. Cathedral windows lined the far wall, stained glass depicting images of groteque conquests by the Carrion family. And there, at the head of the table, stood Carrion himself, looking like a macabre gentlemen in his raven black suit and wine red tie. I noticed immediately he did not have his glass contraption swimming about his face. He didn't look any less frightening, though.

I stood at the opposite end of the table.

"Don't just stand there girl, let me take a look at you." he said, a little sharply, and I leapt to action and prompty walked over to him, trying to stop my legs from shaking and deny the feeling of doom in my stomach. He looked skeptical at first but then his expression told me he approved, and a huge wave of relief washed over me, but it did not alleviate my anxiety. "We will be dining alone tonight, if you do not mind." I shook my head. "Then please, seat yourself wherever you may wish." he sat down in his large seat, gesturing to any chair at the table. I would feel like an idiot if I sat all the way on the opposite end-- how would I get the salt? My dad guffawed in my head and I suddenly felt homesick. I collapsed in the chair opposite Carrion, who had steepled his fingers and was observing me with coalescent eyes. Really, I would much rather want to sit at the opposite end of the table, but if he were to be my husband, I would have to be near him. There was no point avoiding him now.

A sharp bell rang throughout the tower and the dinner hour began.

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Please read and review. any questions, just ask me. and if you think that Izis is starting to sound like a mary-sue, please tell me.


	3. I Disappear

disclaimer: i don't own abarat. only izis

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Resistance was futile in this rather dangerous game. I picked at my food while Carrion ate nothing at all, which made me very self-conscious, as he was watching me eat without any idea that he was being rude (or he probably just didn't care) and who likes it when someone stares at them while they eat?

"That dress is from the Orient." I looked at him, my hand immediately going for the wine he had poured me. It was dark red wine, and it was extremely good, but I was already on my third glass and if I had any more I would be well on the way to being intoxicated.

"From where?"

"The Orient. China, Japan. From the Hereafter." I raised a brow-- I remembered dad telling me stories when I was a little girl of a place that was filled with good people, and angels waited on shore to take your hand and bring you to heaven, no matter who you were. There were cities as large as an island and it was a tropical, animated place. Dad had always believed it was real-- Uncle didn't, he called the notion ridiculous. I always secretly believed (and sort of hoped) that it was real. I wondered if Carrion wanted to go there, as I had noticed a bit of yearning in his deep voice.

"How did it get here?"

"Traders. Merchants in the Hereafter traded much with the Abaratians, until it spiralled out of control and they burnt Hark's Harbour." Carrion explained. I downed my glass of wine, nodding.

"Interesting. How did it spin out of control?" I asked, my voice getting louder as my tongue got looser from the wine.

"Humans in the Hereafter were starting to see things they were never meant to see. Black magick, Untagna... I believe they call it voodoo in their world."

"Black magick?" I asked. Carrion nodded.

"But onto more important matters." he said, changing the topic. I was disappointed; I was aware of magick and even posessed some ability to use it, but black magick and Untagna (voodoo, or whatever he had said) fascinated me. Probably because of their taboo element. I made a mental note to ask Chase about it later and poured myself another glass of wine.

"What else do we need to talk about?"

"You are aware that our marriage will conjoin the islands?" he said. I nodded. "Good. I just hope you remember that."

"I will."

"Are you finished?" I looked down and noticed that I had been picking at my food for over an hour and perhaps he was just irritated now.

"Y-yes. No."

"Are you or not?" his voice was cold and cruel.

"Yes." Carrion snapped his fingers and an elderly man stepped forward, most evidently the butler. He collected the plate and cutlery and walked away silently, without a word or glance. "That is Alfred, he migrated here from the Hereafter at least half a century ago, just before Hark Harbour was burned."

"Oh." That was all I could say. I nodded. "I see." I drank more wine. "Aren't you going to have any?" I asked. His lips turned up, but I couldn't tell if it was a smile or a smirk or a leer.

"I have been drinking this entire time. You just refuse to look at me." I looked at fully in the face. He was right, I had been avoiding looking at him, and actually looking at him in the face at this very moment made me flush and my hands shake. I drank more wine.

"Didn't notice."

"I prefer spiced rum. Plundered from the pirate ships of the Hereafter." his smile turned a little sadistic. "Would you like to try it?" I shook my head.

"No thanks. I will stick to ze wine." I was starting to slur.

"Perhaps you've had enough. I've seen what wine does to your father." I blushed and laughed it off.

"Yes. That's my dad. He's going to be very drunk tomorrow." Carrion's nuetral expression suddenly turned angry. I was surprised, did I say something wrong?

"So may it be." he replied coldly. He snapped his fingers and Alfred returned out of nowhere, startling me. While I was trying to figure out where Alfred had come from, Carrion spoke. "Bring her a glass of rum." I looked at him. His smouldering glare made me shut up, and I only nodded. I didn't know what I had done to make him mad. We didn't speak until Alfred returned minutes later, with a fresh glass of spiced rum. I slammed the whole thing back, and coughed.

"Holy!" I gasped.

"I must leave you." Carrion said, standing up. I looked at him, feeling the fire spread throughout my body. "I have business to discuss. I shall let you retire for the night."

"Okay." Carrion kissed my hand. His lips were razor thin and slightly wet. It made a chill crawl up my spine. Then, he swept out of the dining room, leaving me alone with a half empty bottle of wine.

I sat there and drank it all, and then wept.

-----------------------------------------

It was several hours later that I had to find the washroom to heave my guts up. I could not make it all the way up to the tenth floor to my room, so I stumbled about the dining room. The candles had been reduced to snubs and the fire had died, filling the room with a cryptic red light. I found the kitchen, through one of the smaller doors. I didn't wonder how they could fit a kitchen inside this tower, but it was quite large and I was impressed by the cleanliness of it all. It was currently empty.

I stumbled into the employee washroom and threw up heavily in the toilet. Most of it was red, like the wine. It looked a lot like blood to me. I gagged a few times and rested my chin on the lip of the toilet, heaving. My eyes were utterly bloodshot and my stomach crawled and twisted. My mouth tasted sour and disgusting. I felt very tired and I burped, and spit. Then, I leaned against the wall and held my spinning head in my hands.

"What you doing in there?" a male voice barked, followed by a sharp knocking.

"Are you alright?" A second male voice, speaking more gently then the first.

"Yes. Go _away_." I groaned, hiccuping. I heard some muttered whispering behind the door.

"Who's in there?" the ruder voice demanded.

"_Go away!"_ I yelled. In my drunk rush, I did not bother to lock the door. Even if I did, I probably wouldn't have figured it out anyways. The door opened a few seconds later and two men stepped into the washroom. The shorter one spoke first.

"Lady Izis!" he said, sounding surprised. He bowed. His friend did as well. "We're sorry, we didn't know who it was."

"We wanted to see if we could help." the second man said.

"Who are you?" I groaned, not really caring. They were dressed in the garb of the guards here.

"My name is Samuel." The taller one said. "This is my older brother Kane." he motioned to the shorter one, who I had decided was the rude speaker. He had sandy blonde hair, cropped short in a military cut, light eyes and skin. The taller one was dark haired and had dark eyes. His face was placid and sweet while his brother's was brutal and serious.

"Help me up." I said, extending my arms. My head rolled uncomfortably on my shoulders. Samuel grabbed my extended wrist and Kane carefully put his arm high enough around my waist. They hauled me up and I struggled to stand for a moment. After my head cleared I hiccuped again. "I need to go to bed."

"Old Carrion let loose the rum on you, eh?" Kane remarked, recieving a small punch from his brother. "Hey! She's not married to him _yet_."

"She will be tomorrow." Samuel said to his brother, and then turned to me. I was hanging onto Kane, or else I would fall right on my face. "C'mon, we'll get you to bed."

"Are you sure we won't get in trouble for this?" Kane asked as he helped his brother carry me out of the washroom. Either of my arms were around their shoulders and I really couldn't care less how innapropriate we looked, or whether or not Carrion found us and all of us would be severly punished. I just didn't care. I just wanted to go to sleep and never wake up.

"Why would we? Do you think we would be better off leaving her in the washroom like that?" Samuel asked. "Now shut up and just hurry up. I don't want to risk running into her fiance at this hour." I was about to question why this specific time frame was bad around Carrion, but I only groaned instead, unable to speak. I was passing out on my feet.

Somehow, we made it to the tenth floor. They stopped at the door to my rooms.

"Why did we stop?" Kane grunted.

"We can't go in there, we'll be dead if we do." Samuel said seriously. "Especially if we put her to bed. Lord, imagine what Carrion would do if he found out." A little shudder passed through him. I felt it, even though my head was on Kane's shoulder.

"Well, then, here." He kicked the door open to my room. Samuel glared at him. Kane shrugged and then they gently laid me on the floor and nudged me inside. I didn't care. "She'll crawl into bed, hopefully." Kane said. He made to shut the door but Samuel stopped his hand. "What you doing now?" he asked, rolling his eyes. "Lord, I could be drunk and snug as a bug in a rug right now, Sammy."

"Shut up. We can't leave her on the floor, we'll probably get in trouble for that too." he said. Kane sighed.

"Then you do it. I'll see you at the bar." Kane replied, walking away.

"Unbelievable..." Samuel wheezed as he hauled me to my feet. "C'mon, girl, help me out here." he pleaded. He was tall and very strong, he knew this, but I was just about to pass out and I couldn't have helped even if I had wanted to. Samuel quickly dragged me to the bed and put me on top of it, throwing a quilt over me and stuffing my head under my pillow. He left me on my stomach-- good thing too, I probably would have choked on my vomit in the morning. As soon as my head hit the pillow I was out, and Samuel was out the door in a heartbeat, hurrying after his brother.

-------------------------

I woke up to Chase gently shaking me. "My Lady, please wake up, it's almost time!" she sounded a little uneasy, and anxious. I groaned, batting her hand away.

"Leave me alone." I hissed, yanking the quilt over my head.

"Lady Izis! Please, you're scheduled to be _wed _in four hours!" that woke me up. I sat bolt right up and then clutched my head. It _ached_. Perhaps I hit my head last night. "Alright, c'mon now, it's time for you to bathe." I scowled at Chase and pushed her away roughly.

"I'll do it myself." I snapped, standing up, stretching. "Leave me!" Chase curtsied.

"You will be getting married in the first tower. Handmaidens are waiting for you outside. They'll fit you into your dress." She said, and then left, shutting the door quietly behind her. All the candles were lit and there was a warm fire crackling in the fireplace. I stumbled over to the window and pulled open the blinds. The black sky loomed overhead. Gloomy clouds hid the stars. Miles away, I could see where the night sky melted to sunlight across the sea of Izabella and it made my heart yearn for it. I walked to the washroom. A handmaiden was awaiting in there, to my surprise-- an elder woman, with two young girls on their knees.

"Good evening, my lady." The eldery woman said, bowing. "My name is Sage. The young girls are Sheila and Dumay."

"What are you doing in here?" I retorted grumpily.

"We are to help you prepare." I glanced towards the bath and saw that it was filled with water that had several different colours floating through the liquid. I stared at it, intimidated. Sage immediately started to undress me, and I closed my eyes, defeated. My mouth was sour and dry. I must have reeked like wine and tobacco. When I stood naked before them, I clambered into the bath and let out an audible sigh of relief as the kinks in my body were worked out. I had an idea of how I got into my room last night-- two men, Sammy and Kake... no, Samuel and Kane.

Oh yes, now I remembered-- I was getting _married_. The notion made me feel sick all over again. I clasped the rims of the tub with my hands, straining as the women washed me. They put in at least four different kinds of shampoos and conditioners in my hair, straightening it, running fifty different kinds of combs through it. I cried a little bit, but none of the women attempted to comfort me. They scrubbed under my nails, cleaned my ears. One of them attempted to shave my _legs_-- I literally slapped her so hard blood flecked onto my hand. Dumay let out a little squeal of pain and shock. Sage and Sheila didn't say anything; they just continued.

"I'll do that myself." I said viciously, ripping the razor out of her hand. After I finished, and the stubble was gone, Sage put her hand between my legs and I jumped. "What are you doing!"

"My lady, it is your wedding night! We expect you to copulate with Lord Carrion. This empire is in need of a heir."

"No, no, no," I didn't know myself whether I was protesting her touching my private area or having sex with the Nightmare Man. Possibly both. "I'll do it _myself!_" I snatched the soft cloth and the razor, and looked at the women. "Get the hell out of here. I can handle myself from here." I snapped. All three bowed and left immediately. As they left, I wondered if I cut myself up bad enough with the razor down there, I wouldn't be able to have sex with my fiance. The idea quickly flushed itself away; I wasn't that crazy, yet.

After I was nice and clean down there, I emptied out the bath and as I stepped out Sage and the two young women appeared again. They fit me into an extremely tight corset. I found it difficult to breathe and gritted my teeth as they made it impossibly tight around me. A leg-fitting white skirt covered my legs. I entered my room and was surprised to find three other women there, with a stool before my full-body mirror. There was a brilliant white wedding dress resting on the bed. I stood on the stool and stared at myself in the mirror. I looked exhausted and terrified, hungover. I was all three.

The wedding dress was strapless. A heavy black and silver choker rested around my neck. Large, diamond earings sagged on my ears. My eyes were dressed with kohl and silver eye powder, my lips painted a frosty white, like my hair, which they had pulled up and teased into a high, large knot. Bangs fell in my face. The women fitted a veil over my head, and I let it drape down over my face. At least now, thankfully, no one could see me struggling not to cry.

Then, I was hurried out of the tower and into an awaiting carriage. I almost fainted on the way there. I smoked. The carriage ride was silent, possibly because of my tension. The ride was only ten minutes long, and I was done smoking by the time we arrived. I stubbed it out slowly, closing my eyes for a moment. I had a quick vision of me floating in the sea of Izabella, after the wedding, face down. The thought made me feel even more nauseous. Chase and Sage helped me out of the carriage. Chase hooked arms with me and I held onto her tightly. Her withdrawn and polite attitude comforted me and I had lost the negative feelings I had for her earlier.

"I'm scared." I said quietly as the doors were opened for us by, to my surprise, Samuel and Kane. Samuel smiled at me and Kane winked encouragingly. I walked past them into the hall. My father was waiting by the door, and I hugged him immediately.

"Izis, how are you?" dad asked. I shrugged.

"Nuetral."

"Good girl." he kissed my forehead. "You'll be just fine." in the flickering candlelight, he looked very tired and I could see that he had already started drinking. This must have been so hard for him. I let go of Chase and hooked arms with my father, and looked towards the congregation. I could see at least thirty faces on the right side of the tower, sitting and staring at me. They were from my home, the day island. The other side was packed with people from the nightside. At the altar stood a hunch-backed priest with sad, black eyes. Carrion was standing there, dressed in an expensive suit, watching me. I couldn't look at him in the face. The room was silent as my father led me down the aisle.

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The ring on my finger dazzled me as my head spun. It was the banquet, and I had sought comfort for myself by drinking as much champagne as possible. I had the spins and felt sick. My father had almost started crying when Carrion slid the ring on my finger, and I don't think it was tears of joy. We said our vows and I kissed him on the mouth for the first time-- I had to stand on my tip toes. His lips were rough yet soft, and he had held my shoulders tightly. Still, the kiss had no meaning, no emotion, no feel. An actor's kiss. Now I was ready to faint, the corset was getting very uncomfortable and it felt like I was suffocating.

Then the banquet came and it was none too joyous. I said nothing as speeches were made. I couldn't look at my father as he made his; he sounded so sorrowful and exhausted. My stomach wasn't clenching as bad anymore, after the initial ceremony. That had been, without a doubt, the hardest thing of my life.

The banquet was moved to the 12th tower, where me and Carrion and Motley stayed. I didn't even bother trying to talk to my new grandmother-in-law. Instead I drank, and watched the party slowly get gloomier. While my father and Carrion were speaking about something serious a little ways away, I was alone and Samuel approached me hesitantly.

"How are you feeling, my lady?" he asked politely, bowing. I looked at him. I noticed that since I had set foot on this island Samuel had the fairest, most kindest eyes I had seen on anyone from here. I felt like I could trust him and in my drunk, I did completely.

"Sick. A little scared." I said, frantically lighting another smoke. Samuel had a look of pity on his face and I turned away. I didn't want his pity right now.

"Don't be. Houlihan will look after you," he said. "And so will me and my brother." I looked back at him.

"Really?" I asked. My head was aching and I had never felt more miserable in my life. Carrion seemed to be avoiding me. Everytime he looked at me I felt small, insignificant and ridiculous. I couldn't be Queen of this place, there was no way. Only Boa could have filled the shoes for it, and I definitely couldn't do it myself. I just wanted to be locked away in my room and stay there, prefferably never surfacing into the daylight-- or, should I say midnight-- ever again.

"Yes." he sounded very serious. "Our family has been serving the Carrion's for generations. Me and Kane will make sure no harm comes to you." he gave me a comforting look. "And I really mean, _no harm._" I nodded, and then smiled thankfully.

"Thanks. Nice to know I got a friend around here." I picked up another glass of champagne off the table.

"Be careful, my lady, or it'll be a repeat of last night." he said politely. I looked at him critically.

"Call me Izis, that's my name, none of this 'my lady' stuff. Only when you're in the presence of Lord Carrion should you call me that."

"Okay." I motioned to the table.

"You want one?" I asked, pointing to the champagne. He shook his head.

"Not while I'm on the job." he looked around. "I should probably get back to my post. Have a good evening." he bowed and walked away. Carrion approached me.

"Izis," he began. I hiccuped. "Perhaps you've had too much to drink."

"What are you, my babysitter?" I retorted grumpily, tapping the ashes off my smoke. I just didn't give a flying shit anymore, he could strangle me to death or drown me in the punch bowl right now and I would just let him. His look was very cold and irritated. Obviously he was as enthusiastic about this whole affair as I was. I apologized. "I'm sorry." I put down my champagne and held my spinning head. "I just want to go--" I was going to say 'home', but I managed to stop myself. Gorgossium was my home now, whether I liked it or not. "Sit down."

"Then come." he held out his arm and I took it. He led me over to a vacant chair at the head table, and I sat down heavily. After a second, he sat down with me as well. I looked at him and felt very ill.

"Maybe I should go to bed." I said, a little quietly.

"Maybe. I will retire with you." he stood up. What was I supposed to say? No? Even though my stomach turned over and I was almost sick, I knew this was going to happen. He left for a moment and I gulped down another glass of champagne. No hurt in being drunk for it. He returned to my side and we hooked arms, and we retired upstairs.

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review please, they keep me inspired.


	4. Aftermath

disclaimer: don't own abarat. only izis.

Candles were lit, accompanied by rich insense that had quite a drugging effect on me. It was gloomy yet sensual. This was my room, I dimly realized, recognizing the structure of the bed as I sat on it. I looked towards the door and Carrion had not left. In fact, he stepped inside and shut the door quietly behind him. He stood, looking strangely naked without the glass contraption of nightmares floating around his face, but still fierce all the same. Shadows danced on the walls and skittered across the floor as he approached silently, and I felt my heart quicken. My fingers twisted in my lap.

"You look afraid." he said distastefully. I looked at him. Through my spinning gaze I could make out his look that seemed almost... hurt. I lurched to my feet and stood as straight as possible, feeling defiant. Maybe he would leave.

"I am not." I said as clearly as possible.

"You're drunk." his nose wrinkled. I felt a little regret for drinking so much.

"Sorry."

"Your dress is beautiful." he said, changing the subject abruptly. He reached forward and touched my hip, his fingers brushing the small of my back. I did not flinch. I did feel very reckless, but trapped in a slushy kind of fear. I closed my eyes as his other hand placed itself on my other hip, squeezing softly. "Look at me." he commanded. I did so, looking up at him and biting my lower lip hard to keep from falling over. I just wanted to lie down. This man... something about him made me... I don't know. I felt like I knew him. Knew his mannerisms, his habits, his personality. He certainly had the same gloomy, irritated look that I always had on my face. He seemed to be cold. Not feel cold, per se, but more of a lonely cold. I touched his wrist and he tensed. I was surprised.

Maybe this was the advantage? I was his wife now. I know I could back out at any time. Hadn't he made that clear enough on the boat? Maybe... maybe... there were too many possibilities for my addled, intoxicated mind. I let my fingers slide in and clench the lapels of his dinner coat, pulling him closer to me. Being so much shorter I felt overwhelmed by him, but at the same time, perhaps even more empowered. His eyes had gone half-closed and he seemed to be far away, as if he were with something or someone else. What was that name? Someone had mentioned it tonight to Carrion and he had become very angry and the stitchlings had paid for it behind the scenes. Whatever, it didn't matter. I felt a sudden overwhelming of _pity _for him, and in my blind drunk rush I threw my arms around his neck and pulled him to the bed with me.

"I need to lie down." I whispered, not sensually but pleadingly. Sex had crossed my mind and it made my insides turn cold with fear. But, as for this moment, there was something glittering in his eyes and tugging on his face. A look of want of acceptance. He was letting his guard down, completely down. Well, mostly down. My back hit the bed and his body was overtop mine, his powerful hands pushing me up the sheets until I rested comfortably under him. His face was level with mine but he made no move. He was hesitant.

"I won't force you." he said. "But back out now, if that is your wish."

"Just... just, come on, just..." I closed my eyes again.

Might as well get it over with.

"As you wish." he peeled my dress back and I could possibly call it partial rape, but I suppose you could call it 'copulated sex'. But that sounds so much more terrible then partial rape, so I called it nothing. I held on for the ride. I was a virgin, and he knew it, so he took his time and made it as sweet and comfortable as he possibly could, but it still hurt a little and I bled onto the bed. He was very gentle and it did feel very nice, but as I sobered up from the experience fear and disgust gripped me but I couldn't do that to him, even I had to treat him like a human being now. So I buried my face in the side of his neck and clung to him. His cold hands on my shoulders and teeth at my neck terrified and excited me at the same time; he was speeding up and I felt the famed pleasure I had heard the chamber maids giggle so much about when they thought no one was listening to their conversations; it was small but it made me enjoy it more. I squeezed my eyes shut and reluctantly accepted the growing pressure.

After, I was sitting up on the bed, a sheet wrapped around my body. I was smoking. I watched Carrion pull his clothes on, although I was more of looking past him. I was going to take a very long bath. Carrion stood near the door, looking almost unsure of what to do next. While I was flushed and sweaty, my hair sticking up everywhere, he looked perfectly groomed, composed and recovered, as if nothing had happened.

"I shall leave you." I nodded. He left. I began to weep.

I felt suddenly very sick, and I stumbled off the bed and ran to the washroom naked, vomiting in the toilet. Wave after wave fell from my mouth, and didn't stop until the only thing rolling out of my mouth was stomach acid and drool. I collapsed on the floor, sobbing, curling up as tightly as possible. The freezing marble tiles offered relief to my over-heated body, but it was making my joints ache. I ran a bath after I regained control of myself. I sunk into the blessed heat and closed my eyes, sighing comfortably. As the tension in my body loosened, and the stress melted away, I felt a lot better, but extremely tired. There was a soft stimulation between my legs and I fisted my hands into my crotch, looking up at the ceiling.

I fell asleep.

---------------------

I was aware during my black, dreamless sleep that I had stopped breathing. I tried to suck in air and something overwhelming surged in.

My eyes opened. I was under the water. Someone was above me. I tried to sit up, but the pressure on my shoulders kept me down. Someone was trying to _drown_ me. I immediately panicked when I couldn't breathe. I thrashed violently, clawing at the hands, but it was useless. I could feel my legs splashing in and out of the water like my hands. My heart slammed in my throat and I couldn't help but scream in total fear, and water surged in and I choked, trying to breathe. The surface was inches away. Hysteria blinded me and as I concentrated on who was trying to kill me, my vision was going black and my kicks were getting weaker.

And then, suddenly, the powerful hands let me go immediately. I shot straight up, water spraying everywhere. I sucked in a great, whooping breath and coughed violently, my lungs and nose burning. Water glopped out of my mouth and onto the floor. The entire bathroom was covered with water and the door was half open. I could barely see my assailant under the water-- dark hair, though. That's what I remember. And I think it was a woman. The hands were very soft and feminine. I was clambering out weakly when Chase walked in.

"My Lady!" she exclaimed, looking shocked. "Lordy Lou, are you okay?!" she bolted over and helped me out, grabbing my housecoat and pouring me into it. "What happened?"

"S-s-s-someone tried to drown me." I said uneasily. I clasped Chase's hands. They were dry. I looked at her very closely. She stayed still, looking very frightened. "Why are you in here?" I wiped my mouth, moving away from her.

"I thought you were outside. So I came in to clean up a little." Chase replied, following me out of the washroom. "My Lady, did you say someone tried to _drown _you?" I paused. Shook my head.

"No. I was just dozing in the bathroom and had a bad dream. I would like to be alone." Chase nodded, curtsying.

"As you wish," she said uneasily. "Can I get you anything?"

"Yes. Some tea, please." I lit a cigarillo and drifted to the window, slumping down on the sill, unmindful of Chase hovering by the doorway. "Lock the door behind you."


	5. The Order of Death

disclaimer: i dont own abarat, only izis.

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I decided to take a walk.

Not a very long one, not prefferably. It wouldn't be long until I found myself lost here. The walls are big, but I feel claustrophobic and it's a terrible feeling. If I had been paranoid before, I was hysterical now. I refused to remain in my room for another moment longer and I quickly got dressed in a manueverable dress and put on a jacket. I let my hair down, let it stay straight, so it would curtain me from any monsters I would pass. I stepped into the dark hallway and stood for a moment, listening to the clinks and the clatter of this old tower around me. Shadows creeped along the walls and floor. An unearthly chill filled me, settling in my bones, and I held the side of the coat together closely. I knew Carrion's room was upstairs, not where I wanted to go.

My sense of time was severly in shambles. But I couldn't have been asleep for that long, someone else would have woken me up, although the water had been ice cold, and my finger tips were still slightly pruny. I headed down the tower stairs, holding the banister. It felt damp, almost. I looked up and there, towering at least sixty feet above me, with impossible stairways and staircases spiralling above me, a glass roof protected the tower. I could see what looked like lightning spark in the sky. The roof was stained glass. Red and purple and blue. The colours of midnight, besides black. I continued walking. Sometimes, the banisters stopped for a bit for some unknown reason, making me uneasy to be near the edge. A slight breeze could send someone flying.

I passed servents who curtsied until their noses touched the floor. I ignored them, hoping feebly that I wouldn't run into my husband, Houlihan, or Motley. Or anyone, for that matter. She needed to leave the tower and possibly find a way to get off. After all, she had not dreamed being drowned. No one dreaming could have handled the terror, or feel the burning in your lungs and nose, the complete and utter shut down of all human rationality as you stared death right in the face, through ten inches of water. Should I have went to Carrion? I doubt I could face him. I had tried to be as nuetral as possible, but I felt almost _raped. _I hadn't said no, but I didn't have a choice in the matter. I think Carrion's going to make all the choices for me.

Misery and paranoia discussed in my head, maybe even having tea, enjoying themselves. They weren't leaving anytime soon. I left the tower and stepped into the night air. I wondered if I was even allowed outside without an escort. Not like I wanted one, for all I knew they could have been the person who tried to kill me... but I didn't have anywhere to go. I was alone, and I doubted anyone would let me on a ship to take me home. I could write to my father, ask him to come get me. He would. He would send an army to get me. Hell, the whole damn island.

I looked around my surroundings. It was dark, and the garden looked depressing, but it lead into a forest, situated on my left. The trees were dead but thick, but a small path crossed through it. To me, the trees looked like dead arms, reaching forward. Bony hands, bleached white by the weather. I looked around. There were people about, but no one of royalty. No one appeared to be watching me. A cool breeze blew, rustling my hair. I tucked some of it down, contemplated that entering there might mean suicide, and my instincts told me to go. I walked through the garden of red roses, possibly grown for the devil's whore, lilies and black flowers. They were healthy, but dead. A crow cawed in the trees above me, as I entered the forest. I took one last look behind my shoulder, and then plunged into the dark.

Creep had been asleep in my pocket, and he made his presence known by lifting his head up and cheeping. I put my hand in my pocket and squeezed him over and over again. The ground was hard and leafy, and the ballet slippers I had put on were much more well suited then high heels would have been. There were rustles in the trees. About ten feet in, a lop-sided, ancient sign read in broken letters; _Gallow's Forest_. I could see how it got the name, looking around at the trees. It was quiet, but the crickets were playing their violins, keeping me company. Creep sighed and licked my finger. I coddled him comfortingly. I kept walking past the sign, snapping a large twig along the way. A cloud of ravens burst out of the trees, cawing cryptically. Several black feathers followed their dramatic exit.

This place felt withdrawn and repulsive. It felt _damned._ Probably was damned, too. I drank in my surroundings. I could live here, I thought sarcastically. Well, half-sarcastically. If the situation wasn't so apocolyptic, I would be enjoying myself. I wasn't afraid of the dark, or the things in it. I wasn't afraid of ghosts or spirits or demons-- I was afraid of people. They were cruel things who acted without cause. This place felt alienated from that. Although it could be said that it was a foolish thing to think, I could feel the black magic of the forest seething in the ground, creeping up my legs and over my head, surrounding me and protecting me. A snake slithering past, a small black snake, wiggled twice as fast to get out of my way. Birds flew as I approached. I felt strangely empowered here, in control. My fear and misery faded slowly, recharging me with a new energy. I didn't know what it was, but it was unusual and I embraced it.

I came to a small clearing. This was where the cleanliness of the path ended, and the path on the other side of the clearing and the gallows was more unkept and slightly wild. It felt like I was entering a machine. The gallows consisted of eight nooses. One was unnocupied, hanging impatiently. Several of the nooses had terribly decomposed bodies, and the others were skeletons, some of their bones heaping at their feet. A line of thirteen ravens exactly sat upon the beam holding the nooses, and to her surprise they began to talk.

"Well, well, this is a change."

"Isn't she pretty?"

"Perhaps Carrion has brought her to be hanged."

"Where is Carrion? He has not been passed here for several nights."

"He's getting married."

"How gruesome." the ravens all laughed, but it sounded like pebbles being shaken up and down in a bottle, and I flinched. One raven, the largest of them, flapped down and landed on my hesitant finger as I extended it. I had held doves and sparrows like this on my own island, and the sparrows chattered merrily but the doves only cooed and left white plumes at your feet. This raven was heavy but it was a strong weight. His beady marroon eyes flickered and he cocked his head back and forth quickly.

"Hello, love. Who would you be?" I switched hands with him, slightly uncomfortable. What if these things decided to attack me? Their beaks looked razor sharp and so were there talons. Already, several tiny red bubbles were collecting around my finger but I handled the pain. This was by far, the most exciting-and-not-nausea inducing thing to happen to me since I got here.

"My name is Izis." Several ravens clucked.

"That's the one."

"His little bride."

"Poor soul. She'll be one of us, soon." they seemed to grin at her.

"Carrion's new bride?" the raven sounded stately and informed.

"Yes. You are?"

"Ivan. You see, we ate the tongues of the dead, and now the dead mens souls rest within these bodies." he ruffled his feathers proudly. "Your charming husband passes through here frequently. We watch him. His soul grows more damned by the hour."

The raven's poetic way of speaking charmed me and I gingerly sat down on the edge of the gallows. Creep began to shriek in alarm.

"Mm. A treat." Ivan said, and I put Creep on my shoulder quickly.

"He's not for eating."

"Ah. So, Lady Izis, what brings you out of the tower and here?"

"I... I needed a walk. For some fresh air." Ivan landed on crossed knee and she lit a cigarillo. He eyed it enviously.

"I wish I could still smoke those." he said unpleasantly, ruffling his feathers again. "You are unaware to the dangers you face here, don't you?" I curiously stroked his head. It was soft, not mangy, as I had first expected. He cocked his head rapidly again.

"In this forest?"

"And lovely Gorgossium." he spoke with a touch of yearning. Perhaps Ivan had been someone of royalty, executed for treason or something. I thought of Motley and had a sudden vision of the trapdoor being pulled open and my neck _wouldn't _break and I would hang there twisting and whimpering for twenty minutes. My stomach rolled over and all at once, the mysterious calming, drugging effect the place had on me wore off and I was suddenly very, very scared.

"Yes. Yes, I am. Maybe not completely."

Ivan took off, ascending in large circles.

"Someone _wicked _this was comes. Until we meet again, Lady Izis." he landed back in his place among the ravens, who purred and fluttered, and took off all at once as a tall, dark shape emerged from the path I had come through. My breath froze in my throat and I swallowed hard. Christopher Carrion stopped when he saw me. He was still not wearing his glass mask, and he looked enraged in the dark. I got to my feet and curstied lowly, flushing hard. I felt caught doing something illegal. My heart began to pound and a million excuses started forming in my head. When I straightened he was right before me, and I had not heard him approach. I looked up at him. It was easier to hold his gaze in the dark. His round, cerulean blue eyes made me quake as they peirced mine.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked.

"I -- I was walking--"

"You should not leave without an escort." he said sharply. I flinched, as if he had hit me. Then, I remembered my place. I was the Queen now.

"I wasn't going to go far."

"That is besides the point." the harshness in his voice made me lose whatever confidence I had. "What are you doing here?"

"I was just walking."

He was quiet for a moment. Then, he spoke.

"Come with me, Izis." he offered his arm and I took it after a moment. He led me to the wilder path I had seen earlier, and as we entered, I felt that dark power working into my body again. Carrion looked down at me oddly. I looked back. My confidence, calm, and strength had returned, thanks to the intoxicating effects of the place.

"Where are we going?"

"To my family crypt, where you will be buried one day." A cemetary, too. This forest had it packing, that's for sure. Gallows, skeletons, posessed ravens and a cemetary of the most feared family on the Abarat. The walk was five or ten minutes. In that time, we did not talk at all. My gloved hand gradually slid over his arm so I was holding onto him, keeping closer to him. I felt completely safe now; no one would dare attack me. I desperately wanted to tell him about what had happened in the bathroom, but I didn't even want to think of what would happen. Carrion would either raise hell, or do nothing at all. I'd rather if neither was done.

We came to a very large clearing, perhaps an acre wide. An old, rusty fence lined the place. Something was impaled on one of them at the entrance. Two gargoyles protected the gate. I fancied they were watching us enter out of their marble eyes. We entered and I swore I could have heard some sort of distant singing. Or crying. Maybe screaming, from somewhere in the trees to the right of us. I stepped closer to him, the forest's magic ebbing away a little. We walked along the rows of bent tombstones, until we came to a large marble crypt. There were several mortuary drawers, each with a name engraved into it.

"That is my mother." he pointed to one that said _Elina Ioavanna Carrion._ "My father." _Vigo Alabastar Carrion. _"My brothers." I trailed a finger along them, reading each deeply-engraved name one by one. _Marcus Ethan Carrion. Victor Chase Carrion. Seth Edgar Carrion. Vladicus Joshua Carrion. Josiah David Carrion. Victor Oro Carrion. _And lastly, _James Lewis Carrion. _"Finally, my youngest sibling, my sister." he pointed to the very bottom right one. _Emily Lenore Carrion. _

"What happened?" I asked softly.

"A fire." he replied hollowly. "None lived. They perished in my parent's chambers. I had been with my grandmother at the time, so I survived." He sounded almost resentful about it. "She raised me from the cradle." I nodded. A child raised on savage insanity. I quiestioned his sanity, not for the first time. I also questioned mine too. Maybe I should have left when I had the chance. "Our own plots, are here." He pointed to two marks, one next to the other, next to the marble crypt. It felt as if my body had been plunged in ice and I was slightly dazed, as I observed this heinous mocking of my gravesite.

_Izis Cecilia Carrion. _An angel writhed in agony on top of it. Next was Carrion's. A gargoyle was crouched upon it, both stone and unmoving in the thick, still night air. I suddenly found it hard to believe. I was going to die on this island, and be buried in this haunted spot. Iclung to my husband.

"I want to go back." Don't they put the headstones on _after _you're buried? I asked myself this, and I realized I had just had an inkling of the culture of midnight. As we left the cemetary, the forest's power pumped me again, and I felt my fear leave once again.

"This forest is cursed." Carrion began, letting me hold onto his arm with both hands. "The White Witch resided here, for centuries, until my father slayed her for her possessions and vulgar pranks." A bit of a smirk came alive on his mouth. "Our livestock were slaughtered. My and my siblings lived in fear of her. When she died, my father removed her heart and buried her somewhere here, at the Tree of the Dead."

"Tree of the Dead." I echoed. It sounded almost corny, but it caused a massive chill in her.

"Or, more commonly known, the Tree of the Damned." he looked back down at me and I stared back at him. "I suggest you don't go there, lest you want to lose your mind." I blinked, trying to figure out if he was joking or not. Carrion struck me as the kind of man without a sense of humour however, so I took him seriously.

"Where is it?"

"I won't reveal the location, least of all to you." he looked at her incredulously. "You'd probably wonder there foolishly and be returned to me in a small box, if even that."

"Oh." I said faintly. We left the forest, and we were back in the garden.

"You need to come with me." he said, once we were approaching the tower. I looked at him sharply.

"Why?"

"You need to sign some documents." he smirked. "Protocal."

"Okay." There were a carriage awaiting us, taking us to the second tower. This building was perhaps the most political, with few servents or more businessmen occupying it. He led me to a stellar chamber, and Houlihan and Motley and several other people were there, sitting at the table. Witnesses.

"It's about time." Motley said sharply, and I learned she was not one to accept tardiness. She was sitting behind the short table, Houlihan at her right and another servent at her left. Three or four men and one women stood nearby. A few sheets were lying neatly in front of her. A crystal goblet, a small knife and a quill rested above it all. "Izis Cecilia Carrion," Motley began, knitting her long fingers before her, observing me with scrutiny. "You must sign these documents as proof that you are wed to my grandson, Christopher Carrion. That way, your marriage is sealed, forever."

Forever? My mouth went a little dry as I thought of decades of wondering these dark hallways. I was tempted to just blurt out my bathtub experience, but Motley held my gaze and I couldn't move. I eventually tore my gaze away and looked at the papers, about to read them. "You don't have to read them now. You can later." I did as she suggested, because it was really a command. "Give me your hand, girl." I wavered for a moment, and then did so. She gripped my wrist and picked up the knife, and my eyes widened.

"Wait--"

"Silence." she snarled. "We must have your signature in blood, as no ink can hold true. Anyone could write a signature." She dug the blade into my skin promptly, and I gasped and my knees almost buckled. I gripped the side of the desk tightly, until my knuckles turned white, and she made a four inch incision. She turned my hand around abruptly, stretching the wound as wide as possible. My eyes grew blurry from the extreme discomfort and powerful stinging, and my blood streamed into the goblet steadily, collecting at the base. She stopped when it was quarter way full. She released my hand and I snapped it back, clutching it. It was bleeding freely. Then Carrion did the same, except he did not flinch when his grandmother dug the blade in. The cut was deeper and longer then mine, but no emotion betrayed his eyes. Our blood mixed in the goblet and we each signed each document with the quill. Our blood was bright and crimson in the lamplight. When I looked up Houlihan was staring at me with a frightening, unwavering intensity and my gaze quickly dropped.

Motley stacked the papers and arose.

"That is all you need to do. Now, get out of my sight." she swept away towards a door in the back of the room, slamming through it. The witnesses gathered to sign in black ink pens the guest list that the servent held out to them. Carrion took my arm and brought me back out into the hallway, shutting the door.

"Those people will all die now." I looked at him, surprised and confused. "Houlihan shall execute them all. My grandmother wants no witnesses."

"What--"

"Perhaps you should also know," he said, beginning to walk away from me. "Is that we just signed your death warrant. I will see you at dinner." he swept away into the darkness, not unlike his grandmother.

I walked away in a horrified, miserable daze. I walked into a staff washroom, where the lights were intensely bright. It took me a long time to get rid of the dancing black spots in my eyes, but when I looked in the mirror I began to cry, for I did not even have my own personal room to retreat too. I sat down on the toilet and held my face in my hands, and I sobbed uncontrollably for ten minutes, and then I left. As I left the second tower to where Chase was waiting at the base of the steps for me, I wondered how fast it would be for me quietly sweep away into the shadows, to become nothing but a flash of eyes in the dark, a lost soul entombed in these hallways.

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	6. Survival and Adaptation

disclaimer: i don't own abarat. only izis.

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The girl was beautiful. Carrion, who could be such a simpleton, was letting this opportunity pass him by-- Houlihan was astounded, slightly amused and very frustrated that his prince still pined for that whore Boa. Houlihan never saw the attraction in that little fool, her simper smiles and large, innocent eyes. Houlihan would enjoy raping and dismembering a little thing like that, but Izis was strong. He could see it in her sly, cunning eyes. She was intelligent. But afraid. He grinned, sitting in the chair Motley had previously occupied, smoking a cigar imported from the Hereafter. It was a large, harsh thing, but it gave him pleasure to smoke it. His booted feet were propped up on the table, and five mutilated bodies lay about him, their blood pooling on the floor to the point where he would have to splash through it to get out. The servents were going to have fun tonight. Buckets of blood literally. He chuckled silently to himself.

He smoked, and thought about his prince's bride. Or, more recently, the Queen of Midnight. She was crafty and dark, like most of the souls on this island. He had violent visions that made the blood rush to his groin. A sick smile played on his lips as he reached forward and took the goblet that held Carrion's and his wife's blood, swirling it in the glass. It was half full. It glimmered in the lamp light. He heard a small moaning sound from the woman, and he looked down and then brought his foot down abruptly on her back, snapping it cleanly. She moaned and moved no more. He was satisified after he ground his foot in, listening to the spinal discs crackle and pop out of place, the ribs breaking. The terrific sounds filled with him pleasure, and he stood up, holding the goblet as if it were a glass of wine.

He drank it down, shuddering at the lovely taste. He crushed the goblet in his hands and dropped the shattered goblet at his feet and left, his footsteps crunching over broken glass and bone. The door shut behind him loudly.

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Carrion was pacing. His butler stood in the doorway, waiting patiently. He paused to adjust his cuff links, looking to himself in the mirror and taking cruel satisifaction of the look in Izis' eyes. She had not looked defeated, but she looked terrified, on the brink of insanity, exactly where he wanted her. Perhaps if she were insane, she would love him better. As of this moment, the Prince of Midnight had no idea that his bride was contemplating suicide, or that his most trusted lieutenant was lusting after his wife and was suffering from cannibalistic tendencies. Everything was dark and trife in his world, and for the millionth time he wished Izis looked a little more like Boa, spoke a little more like Boa, smiled like her, and laughed like her.

Izis felt like a product to him, a pretty, intelligent one, but nothing more then that. He felt that maybe, in time, he could love her, but he did not want to face the hurt of being rejected, like he had been, over and over again by Princess Boa. His heart ached in his chest and he rounded on his butler. "Leave." he commanded. The butler left without another word.

It was time for dinner. He left his room.

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I was sitting at my window, my chin in my elbow, staring out at the ocean. A knife rested next to my elbow. I had brought a candle over, and it was flickering. I had thrown the window wide open, contemplating on whether or not planting the knife, blade up, in the grass just under my window, and then jumping out. It would be a hundred foot plus fall, but the knife was going to be there. Just in case.

I sighed, looking down at myself. I had worn a dress from my home island, and it was a strapless violet thing, that ruffled slightly and flowed around my calves. My hair had been done by Chase, who had french-braided it and then pinned it in an extravagant, spiky hairstyle, my bangs framing my face. A large black choker elongated my neck. I turned the wedding ring over and over on my finger with my middle finger slowly, a cigarillo burning in the ashtray. A bottle of wine and a half-empty glass rested on the shelf. My eyes had been traced over and over again with kohl, until they appeared sunken into my skull. I gnawed on my fingernail nervously.

Won't be long now. As that thought crossed my mind, I heard a knock at the door and I cringed. "Come in."

I had worked my way back to my room after putting it off as long as possible. I requested from Chase a gaurd be at the door at all times. She had agreed and to my delight, Kane and Samuel were standing at the door when I approached. Samuel had smiled at me encouragingly and Kane had tipped a friendy wink, both promising me no one would enter through here except myself, Chase and my husband. I thought it was a very good idea indeed. I was still a little nervous in this room, but it had mostly dimmed. I had no idea yet of the dimension-breaking reality of the true power the magic of Midnight posessed. I found myself looking at each of the servents and anyone that passed me. Anyone could be my assailant. I realized that these thoughts and suspicions would drive me insane so I tried to ignore them the best I could, although I was wound into a tight ball of anxiety and fear.

Chase entered the room, looking freakishly beautiful in a black evening gown. Her hair and make up was done until she looked absolutely mind-blowing, and I was a little envious of her. She curtsied.

"It is time, my lady."

"I told you to call me Izis." I said, as I took her arm. Samuel and Kane followed us.

"If it's not too bold to say," Chase began, "I believe Otto Houlihan would protect you this evening. Samuel and Kane have quite an important job to do--"

"I want them at my door, whenever I am in there." I retorted sharply. "Please." My voice got softer. I felt a little bad for snapping at Chase. She nodded once.

"Of course, Lady Izis."

Well. It was a start.

I entered the dining hall alone. Before I had left my rooms I had put on a silk shawl and it was draped over my shoulders and arms, and I surveyed Carrion and the eight men sitting at the table. Carrion was at the head, with a chair next to him, unoccupied. Everyone rose as I walked forward.

"May I present, Queen Izis of Gorgossium." The butler standing at Carrion's left announced, and everyone bowed except the King. I sat next to him, and everyone followed suit.

"May I present to you, representatives from the night islands." Carrion began. The man nearest to Izis kissed her knuckles respectfully as he introduced himself.

"Lord Opium. Of Soma Plume, my Lady." I plucked my hand out of his hold and immediately reverted to super-professional mode that my own grandmother had taught me. You must be your best, look your best, and act your best in the presence of royalty and power. A good impression is a lasting impression. A bad impression could be the downfall of an empire. She often told me that rumours were more important then the truth, these days. Everyone hears only what they want to hear.

"It's an honour to meet you." I said grandly. Secretly, I also wanted to impress my husband. That started off the conversation well, and for the next two hours we spoke politics, and I learned very quickly that a lot of the responsiblity rested fully on my shoulders. The sudden title lay heavy on my shoulders, but I dared to plant my feet and handle it. Besides, it took my mind off of what was happening around me, as I attempted to adjust to this new, twisted culture. I learned the financial problems, the economy issues, everything from the medical system to the livestock production was brought up. After a splendid dinner of baby veal and steak, bloody as hell, the men began to talk of more trivial things and I settled on getting drunk. I was halfway through my second glass when Carrion touched my arm.

"Walk with me." I nodded and arose. Everyone paused for a minute, rose and bowed to the King and Queen, and then returned to their conversations. I grabbed my wine glass and followed him out to the balcony, looking out at a view not indifferent to the one I had showed him on the day islands, back on Quiam Hah. The spectacular view of the ocean in the night sky awed me into silence for a moment. Carrion was quiet as well. I lit a cigarillo. "You did a fine job, in there." he said, sounding pleased. Instantly, I felt myself flush with pride and accomplishment. Suddenly, I was dismayed to see, a compliment from Christopher Carrion was like recieving a compliment from God-- he was the only person who could protect me here, from anything. Mostly, from his grandmother; and for that, I thanked him secretly over and over again. For by now, if it had been any other person being my husband, I would most certainly be dead. The old woman loathed me, that I could tell quite easily. You would have to be blind not to tell.

I had once heard a story about a woman from the Hereafter. She was deaf, blind and mute. Her name was Helen Keller and sometimes, I wanted to be like that. To be oblivious to everything and anything. A stupid death, like, if I didn't learn how to communicate with others. I could be better off like that, die peacefully and not really even knowing what death was, kind of like the next big mystery, what happens after you die. It would be so much better then this. Reality was killing me. How long was it going to take for it to finally settle in? I was feeling dramatic, and was slightly annoyed of it. I was moving up in the social status a little, I think, and I should take advantage of this. I held Carrion's arm and we talked, not about business or anything, just talking. Like that. It was hard, but easy at the same time. A game I liked playing, although I was always losing. The air was a little warmer here, then at the tower I slept in. It helped me relax a little. A constant chill had settled in me since coming here and it was driving me insane. I could feel those meloncholy feelings returning and I put my game face on, making my face a mask, 'cause sometimes that's the only option a girl has.

As I drank wine and gradually pulled away from the conversations, I found a little humour in the situation. I didn't know why it was humorous-- but I sometimes caught myself smiling. After thirty or so minutes, I was halfway to being drunk and I retreated into the kitchens, slipping away unnoticed. No one seemed to mind, everyone but Carrion (although he too was a little more loud now) were well on there way to being drunk as fast as possible, because most of them were uncomfortable being here. I got out of there when I had been left alone, and I came into the kitchen and drank in there with the cook, Jr, a strong dark skinned man that used to be a soldier in Carrion's army. He was one of my favorite people here, already. He treated me like a person. He only bowed a little, not to much. I liked him after one meeting.

"Izis," he bowed a little. "What can I do for you?"

"You don't have a glass of rum, do you?" I asked, feeling positive now that hard liquor was on hand, and I recieved it right away. I sat at the butcher table and drank it slowly, smoking and glancing briefly through the newspaper, but was immediately freaked out when I saw pictures of myself and Carrion in places I couldn't remember being in, it was really god-damn creepy. I threw the newspaper away onto the floor and refused to look at it, my heart speeding up a little. I drank my rum faster now, until it was done.

"Can you make me a dry martini? Please?" I smiled a little, trying to convince him.

"I ain't no open bar, Lady. But since you're dealing with that ugly crowd outside, I'll make you an extra dry, extra size, dry martini. Yeah?"

"Sure." Jr brought me my martini, and I knew two or three of these would have me on the floor. The thought pleased me and in the normally lighted kitchen, with an equal balance of shadows and flourescents, the fan rotating in the corner, a direct breeze of air-condishining cooled me down and I swirled the black olive in my drink, enjoying it more and more. I was conversing with Jr about rather important things-- he politely, if sarcastically, asked me what I was going to do be doing for Gorgossium, how to clean up the economy and broken tax promises, riots and civil war, and it was disturbed when the door opened and Carrion entered.

Carrion was a different story, and Jr bowed lowly.

"My Lord," he said.

"Leave." Jr slid out, giving me a look of pity behind Carrion's back. I gulped down the rest of my second martini and yes, Jr's tequila simply turned me into an animal. I stared him down for a few seconds, before standing up.

"Is there something wrong?" I asked, feeling slightly nervous now.

"They've gone. They were wondering where you got to."

"I was in here. Why? Should I have been there when they left?"

"No. They could barely walk straight by the time they left." he looked at her incredulously. "Everyone but me seems to like to drink around here."

"I think you've had some to drink." I replied as politely as possible, although I had discovered Jr's tequila, and had poured myself a straight shot. "Want another one?" I extended the glass to him, and he raised an eyebrow.

"I don't drink tequila." he retrieved a bottle of scotch from the upper shelf. I was sitting back down at the kitchen table, drinking the rejected tequila slowly. I was having some trouble tasting it fully now, which meant I couldn't feel my teeth, which meant I had succeeded in becoming drunk, and I was actually enjoying myself since I got here. He sat down across from me, and I drank continuously as he did, our speech getting more and more looser and more personal, until I was talking about stupid stuff I had done when I was younger, revealing my past to him a little, and I felt sort of... comfortable.

Then, I kind of blacked out.

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Carrion watched the young woman before him slowly get drunker. He was perfectly fine, himself-- perhaps a little tipsy but alcohol never really did the trick for him. However, Izis was...very drunk. She wasn't rambling, she didn't get vulgar and disrespectful, although she had talked to him quite rudely at some points. But now, she didn't know what she was doing at all and while he had been sitting there he had not failed to notice she had drank almost half a bottle of tequila to herself. He allowed her one more shot and then tucked the bottle away. Now she was getting up. He took her arm, and they went to Carrion's bedroom this time, where she had never been, and he had sex with her. The sex was good, but she had the same disattached feel and look that she had the night of their wedding.

When he was finished she was exhausted-- completely and utterly emotionally and physically exhausted. He inspected the unwrapped wound on her hand. It was an angry wound, one that would scab over badly and be a large, ugly scar for the rest of her life. He lifted the hand to his face, looking into her sleepy brown eyes. He kissed her palm, and then lay it to rest across her stomach. She closed her eyes and slept immediately, he was surprised to see-- women would not dare blink before him, let alone fall asleep before him. But Izis had been drunk and so had he (well, just a little), and he admired her bravado. He left the room, with no intention of sleeping next to her. That would be pushing it. When she woke up sober and with a hangover, and he was next to her, she was going to scream.

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I awoke alone, naked, and I was not particularily surprised. I pulled the blanket over my chest, slowly sitting up, drawing my legs to my chest. What time was it? My head was aching like there was a hole in it, and my hair was greasy and uncomfortable on my scalp. I looked around, taking in my surroundings. A silk black dress, simple and elegant, rested on the bed near the edge, along with my jacket and a scarf. I glanced to the window. It was opened partway, and snowflakes were gently falling in the dark, drifting past the window. I got into my underwear and pulled on the dress, looking at myself in the mirror. My makeup was once again smeared everywhere and my hair was an absolute mess. I tied it up in a sloppy, wispy bun and put on my coat, doing up the buttons. I loved this jacket. It looked like I had major curves. I tried to remember last night. I knew I had slept with my husband for the second time and I blushed, wraping the scarf around my neck and tucking it in, putting on the uncomfortable high heels I had been wearing last night. I hoped I hadn't said or done anything stupid last night.

I stepped out of Carrion's room and began walking down the stairs until I came to my room, walking into it and immediately going to the balcony, stepping out and looking at the ocean. I realized that this had been the first time I had come out onto the balcony, probably out of fear that I would throw myself over it. I felt the chill and my breath was visible in the air, white vapor that lingered for seconds. I smoked a cigarillo and then went dared to travel upstairs. I didn't have a single idea where Carrion was, probably on business. Chase was nowhere to be seen, Houlihan and Motley thankfully somewhere else. I climbed the stairs, passing several servents and maids that bowed and curtsied and I ignored them, perhaps being a little cold but I didn't care. The curiosity I had orginally had of the place had returned, and I found myself on the floor two underneath Motley's-- that was as far as I dared to go. I ran into stitchlings up here.

One particular one was very tiny, perhaps no taller then my knee, hunched over terribly, and stitched in all the wrong places. He blinked his mis-matched eyes at me and then bowed until he almost toppled over. My heart absolutely melted. Of course, he was a hideous-looking, ugly thing, but his eyes were bright and innocent and simply kitten-eyed, and I fawned over him immediately.

"What is your name?" I asked, bending down, placing one hand on the random vase table to steady myself. These high heels were impossibly tall and hurt the ankles.

"Pugsley, my Lady." he said shyly.

"What a cute name. Pugsley, what do you do?"

"I run errands for Mater Motley." he replied, bashfully keeping his eyes on the ground. "When she requires assistance."

"How would you like to come for a walk?" I asked, extending my hand. I had kept my gloves on. The air was always cold here. His stubby, lumpy hand rested in my palm, and I straightened and walked with him. I found him simply adorable. He could barely keep up with my much longer strides, so I slowed down until we came to a huge set of double doors that lurched fifteen feet into the wall. I stopped. "What place is this?"

"That is the library. Only Lord Carrion goes in there." Pugsley explained, and flinched when I reached for the doorknob.

"Go on back to work, Pugsley." I said, releasing him. "Do a good job." he nodded, bowed and scampered back to where he was before, taking one last awed look over his shoulder before disappearing down the stairs. I put both hands on the tarnished silver knobs and opened the doors. My curiosity was piqued, and although I was well aware of the term curiosity killed the cat, the inside of the room was so spectacular I could not leave now. I shut the door behind me, pulling off my scarf. It was warmer in here, because of the fire burning in the wall. Hundreds of book-cases lined the room, books stacked in corners, tottering ominously. A bureau was near the massive stained-glass window, and I walked over, opening the drawers. Parchment, scrolls and maps were arranged neatly within, along with a few day planners and extra candles and matches. I lit a candle, put it in an empty holder, and then wondered the rows. The books were thick, some ancient, with black and brown leather spines. Cobwebs reached high above or clustered in small corners, where I was afraid to put my hand.

I was in the back of the room, where it was darker because there were no lamps and candles, and the fire was out of sight. The flickering of my candle broke the titles up, but I felt a black sensation of excitement. These were books on witchcraft. I stopped, reaching forward to pull out a particularily thin book, when I heard a loud rustle above me. I looked up sharply and saw something that caught my eye; I didn't find what made the noise, but a bundle of letters wrapped in twine were sticking out between two books. I looked around and spotted a foot stool at the end of the row. I placed my candle down and retrieved the stool. I listened carefully, in case Carrion or someone was in here. I had a feeling those letters were something important, if they were put so up high and out of sight. I had to balance on the tips of my toes, which was very hard, and I managed to pull them. A large book fell out of the case in the process, landing on the floor before she could catch it, and the resounding boom sounded like a bomb and I barely breathed for a moment, listening to my heart hammer. When I was sure no one was coming, I got off the stool, sat down on it and grabbed the book, looking at it.

It had no name on the cover or spine. I placed the letters on top, and looked at them. The first one was addressed to Princess Boa. I opened the aging envelope, stained with mildew and dust, and pulled out a thrice-folded sheet of parchment. I opened it, listening to the crackle of time. I read it.

Dear Princess Boa,

My darling princess, must I pine for you forever? Anxiously everyday, I await your answer to my own letter, desperately hoping for a positive answer. It drives me insane, fearing your rejection-- you must know, that I love you so much. I would change my life and myself for you, even push the darkness away from my island if it puts your fear to rest...

I shut the letter and stuffed it back in its envelope, a strange feeling in my gut. I put the letters back where I found it, and was about to put the fallen book back as well when a clumsy accident sent it on the floor again and it opened to the middle of it, as if on cue, and I tilted my head and brought the candle closer to the writing. It was a spell-- a spell book! I picked it up and sat down on the stool once again, and for the next forty minutes I was completely entranced in the book. It was a book of black magic, filled with symbols and spells and incantations. I shut the book after a while and stole it back down to my room. Samuel and Kane were outside, but I told them not to disturb me no matter what they heard.

I opened the book and sat cross-legged on my bed, turning to a particularily easy spell. I placed an unlit candle in my lap, read the spidery writing, and then breathed as appropriate. Blow the fire through your words. The writing instructed. I looked down at the candle, held it in my palm, and said, "Ignicio!"

The candle exploded. I shrieked as burning hot wax splattered all over the room. I rolled off the bed, landing hard on the floor. The bedsheets were singed and I lay there for a moment, panting, watching them. The spell made me feel emotionally charged, but physically exhausted. Dear God, I just blew up a candle! I bit my lip and then a small smile came to my lips, as I slid the book under my bed. So, I had found my first hobby on Gorgossium.

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	7. Candy Quackenbush

Disclaimer: I do not own Abarat, Only Izis.

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Chapter Seven: Candy Quackenbush.

A month had passed on Gorgossium. I had adjusted into a routine that still held surprises for me everyday. I went to the meetings, travelled to several different islands with Carrion, and slowly our relationship progressed, but never really by much. I satisfied my subconscious depression with alcohol, smothering it. Perhaps it was bad judgement to be drinking so much, but at this point nothing satisfied me. I didn't really eat much anymore. A lot of the time, I would just get sick or nauseous. I held myself up with soup, rum and cigarillos, barely sleeping, either signing papers and arranging finances and taxes, or brooding in the kitchen. I practised my spells when everyone had retired for the evening. I kept it secret; I did not tell Chase, Samuel, Kane, or anyone-- Creep was my only comfort here. He did not eat much, and he always found morsels to chew, so I let him run wild in my room. The best part, was that I had stopped crying-- I had accepted who I was. Now I just needed to adapt to the culture.

A month or so had gone by when I discovered the black chapel in the twelfth tower. I had stumbled upon it. It was a large room with stained-glass windows, with several black-clothed servents, maids, who knows, sitting in the pews and their heads bowed, perhaps praying. The 'priest' was an incredibly hunched back man with mismatched eyes and a gaping mouth that curled up in a sneer on one side. His hands were like claws and looked slimy, and he walked slower then molasses going uphill, a massive black bible held to his chest. I didn't bother to look through these bibles, mostly I just sat in the back with a veil over my face, so no one knew who I was. I would read there, mostly literature, sometimes I would do paperwork when no one else was in there. The chapel became my sanctuary, and I came to love its papery, candle-flame smell. I had tried to read the bible the priest carried about-- but it was in old Abaratian and I was pretty rusty with it.

I had been in the black chapel when I first heard of Candy Quackenbush. I was sitting in the farthest pew from the congregation. A sermon was going on but I wasn't listening. My hair was tied in a severe knot at the top of my head and I wore a layered black veil to hide my face. I was flipping through a paperback novel when the two ladies in front of me began to whisper amongst each other.

"Did you hear about the girl in the dungeon?"

"Yeah-- what's her name? Carly?"

"Candy Quackenbush. _From the Hereafter_."

"Really? What's she doing here?"

"Lord Carrion wants her. I don't know why. I guess Lady Izis isn't working out. Apparently, she refuses to bed him." Irritation twitched in me. But I had learned to ignore the rumours. Whenever Motley caught me, on one of her sweeping rants, she berated me heavily for not bearing an heir to the throne. I usually blew her off as politely as possible. I did not want to make her angry. And the girl, Candy Quackenbush-- I listened closer.

"I don't blame her. Which tower is she in?"

"The fourth. You know, the dungeons."

"Lordy Lou, I would hate to be in there."

I had not heard of Candy Quackenbush. Carrion had not mentioned it to me. I listened closer.

"What happened?"

"Carrion sent Shape, and he grabbed her with a giant bug, or something. Now she's in the dungeon. I think Carrion's going to experiment on the poor thing."

"Probably. Poor soul."

"Blood-thirsty bastard, isn't he?"

"Yeah. How long has she been in there?"

"Two weeks."

I stood up quietly, closing my book. I drifted off, and the ladies did not even notice; they continued whispering. I wondered the tower, thinking thoughtfully, and I formulated a plan. I had nothing to do for the next few hours, and I was extremely curious about the girl. She was from the _Hereafter..._ an actual living specimen. She must be terrified, if the stories I have heard are true. She's probably seeing things she's never even dreamed of, and locked in that nightmare dungeon... I went to my rooms, walking across the courtyard, realizing that maybe if I dressed in clothing from the Hereafter maybe she would be more comfortable. I knew what was crossing the line-- I could go talk to her, but if I set her free there would be trouble. I was not jealous, although I was very curious as to what Carrion wanted with her, if he sent Shape to retrieve her. And two weeks in the dungeon? Must have been brutal. I put on the Oriental dress I had worn for my first dinner with Carrion, my coat and I let my hair down, combing it straight before setting off for the fourth tower.

The guards let me through without trouble. I floated down the spiral stairs, listening to the screams and begging, all of my husband's craft. He was a sadistic, brutal and ruthless man, this I learned fast. He was not one to fool with, or anger. I had seen him do such things that it made my skin crawl to think of, and sometimes I could not believe he was _real_, he had to be a nightmare, the ultimate boogeyman, something of your darkest, deepest imaginations. I had also come to know, and it had come to me quite by surprise, that I was really the only person who had the tiniest bit of control over his actions; his one and only restraint. Half the time I didn't try to stop him, though. I kept out of his way as much as possible, and when we did meet for dinner I usually had sex with him afterwards, and I must say, I'm getting used to him.

The dungeons reeked of puke and human excrement. The walls were cracked, bruised, slimy, with rats and bats scrawling in the rafters and floor, heavy doors sealed shut forever. I peeked into one of them and saw a skeleton leaning against the far wall, dimly illuminated in the light hanging from the ceiling in the hallway. I left the cell, thinking about the skeleton. I had found a way to make friends with the dead. It was a good way to pass the time.

Candy Quackenbush was held in the very last cell, on the far left. The hallway light flickered here. I looked into the cell, and saw a skinny, short girl with wild black hair and dirty, mangy clothes sitting on her cot, slowly kicking her feet through the dust. She did not know I was there. I looked at her for a moment. She looked absurdly familiar, although I couldn't place where I had seen her before. The door was locked from within, but not from the outside, that must have been the ultimate tease. I twisted the knob and opened the door, startling her into a standing position. She most likely did not expect to see me there-- she looked like she had been expecting anything but me.

"W-Who are you?" her voice was barely higher then a whisper, her eyes as wide as plates.

"Someone of importance." I replied. "Why are in this cell, Candy Quackenbush?" she kept looking to the hallway beyond my shoulder. I had learned body language pretty well since living here, and I could tell she wanted to bolt. I held up a hand. "Don't try to run by me, either, darling." Candy Quackenbush suddenly dropped to her knees, pushed down by an invisible hand, so hard I heard her kneecaps crack against the floor and she yelped. I winced. I still had to keep my magic under control, but I had also started to feel the same hate and loathing my husband felt, and it felt _great _to hurt someone else. "Can you answer my question, please?" I beckoned her with my finger, and she automatically rose to her feet. Her eyes were shocked wide open with fear and awe.

"I-- I don't know. Shape... he put me in here. I don't know how long it's been."

"Two weeks."

"Oh..." I tilted my head, looking at her closely. She looked uncomfortable.

"You look familiar."

"Oh?"

"Are you expecting Lord Carrion?" I asked. Her face paled.

"N-no. I don't want to see him."

"Understandable." I looked around her temporary (or perhaps permanent) home.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Izis." I replied, and walked away, slamming the door shut without the use of my hands.

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I know it's short, but review plz.


	8. Illusions

disclaimer: i do not own abarat, only my character Izis.

Brief chapter summary: Izis goes on the hunt for her husband, and finds much more then she was looking for.

Author Note: Just read and review.

----------------------------Chapter 8: Illusions.

I entered the third tower, pondering my little meeting with Ms Quackenbush. I brushed past a servent, who dropped to his knees, and I ignored him and trekked to the cellars, where something always interesting was lurking there. Walking down the winding, near rickety staircase, I let my fingers trail along the dusty stone wall, catching traces of the occasional cobweb. Perhaps Candy was going to be Carrion's new mistress. Perhaps he needed something new. I wasn't jealous-- not yet, anyway-- or even angry. I did not really care what he did, even sleeping with another girl, if that was even his intentions. Carrion did not seem like the type to commit adultery, although I had been noticing as of late that Samuel was extraordinarily handsome. Perhaps I was suffering from a little infatuation with him, but I highly doubt I would ever resort to sneaking away from the tower at night with him, into the forest and sleeping with him in the cemetary-- perhaps I would even go as blasphemous as fucking on my own grave.

I came to the very bottom of the tower, which was perhaps hundreds of feet under the ground, I was not paying attention too how far or long I was walking. At the bottom of the stairs there was a pathway that turned a corner about ten feet away. The base of the stairs was accompanied by a dusty, ghostly table with a cobweb-infested lamp on top of it. I picked it up and snapped my fingers, and the flame came alive on its own. I continued down the hallway, proceeding to explore. Soon enough, the darkness swallowed me and I came across a door, which I opened. I had to jiggle the doorknob a few times, and it squealed harshly and opened with a terrible creaking noise, the hinges definately in need of a good oiling. The room smelled of sulpher and old, rotten wood, and I realized with surprise it was a storage room of some sort.

I could not see the ceiling, the room was so large and vast. Within its depths, I felt almost overwhelmed as I viewed the piles of boxes and crates, the furniture eerily draped with white cloth, gathering dust. I coughed slightly, and then sneezed. My allergies were working up in here, possibly from all the dust I was inhaling. I covered my nose and raised my candle high, and stepped into the middle of the room, and looked around. In the far corner, was an oversized, nearly grotesque organ that brooded and leered like a monster. I felt intimidated by it, as if it were too suddenly spring alive and try to kill me, but I approached it anyways, my morbid curiosity tugging me closer and closer. I righted the over-turned stool, the stubby legs slapping down on the floor and echoing. I slid down into the seat, easing the candle next to me.

Back on the day island, my father taught me how to play piano. He always told me that it was very important for a princess to have musical talent-- I really knew that he just liked to hear me play because my mom used to play, too. So I had learned how to play the piano, bright little waltzes and jigs, songs people could dance too, or enjoy listening too. This organ was the opposite of the day island. I placed my fingers on the rusty keys and pressed down. The gothic sound was brooding, evil and echoing, the power vibrating through my fingers, filling me up with a strange, terrible feeling of doom, and visions of the apocolypse flashed before my mind's eye. I closed my eyes, relaxed my fingers, and pressed another note. Same, except deeper. I began to play.

Of all the songs I learned, I learned one funeral song, which I played now. The music filled up everything, blocking out every sound, emotion and feeling I could have otherwise felt, filling me up like water in a balloon. I felt swollen, almost pregnant, with it, and I opened my eyes a little and felt those tears come, the kind that come when you are hearing or seeing something so overwhelming you can only _cry_. I wept, and played the organ, like hell's waltz, and I didn't stop playing for half an hour.

When I finally stopped, emotionally exhausted, I spread my arms across the keyboard and leant my head against the wooden frame, breathing shallowly, my head feeling too big for my neck to support. I wasn't sick, only overwhelmed. My peace and quiet was disturbed by the sound of soft, quiet clapping. I turned abruptly, ready to yell at whoever had disturbed me, but the words died in my throat as my husband bloomed from the shadows, his eyes glowing.

"I did not know you could play the organ." he said after a moment. I stood up.

"I did not know you were keeping a girl from the Hereafter in the dungeon." His face did not betray him, but his eyes glinted with something I could not decipher. I waited, instead.

"Yes. I need her."

"For what?"

"That is none of your business." he said, now sounding angry. He was right, it was really none of my business to be wondering why he had a girl in the dungeon, but that didn't satisfy me.

"Well, how would you like it if I kept a man in the dungeon? Or a _woman?_" His eyes glittered with fury and he swooped over to me. I fell back onto my seat and he boxed me in, slamming his hands down on the organ's keys on either side of my shoulders, boring down on me, eyes ablaze. The candlelight next to us gave his face an eerily decomposed, skeletal look.

"What are you _implying_, Izis?" he growled.

"Nothing at all, Christopher." I replied, smooth as silk but cold as ice. We stared at each other for a moment, and then he removed himself abruptly, turning his back to me.

"Dinner is an hour. I expect you, and our _guest_, to be there." He swept out of the room and left me in the darkness, as the candle had blown out when he slammed the door.

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revieww


	9. Heartsick

[disclaimer: i do not own abarat respectfully, only my character izis.]

-----Chapter 9:: Sold to the Devil

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I wondered how much dignity I still had left, at this point. I stood in my washroom, gazing into the mirror with a look that was crossed between rage and confusion, and it was an ugly face, to be sure. I had vainly attempted to fix my hair, but failed miserably and had to call in Chase to do it, who put it up and dread-locked it, as she called it, turning it into quite the exotic hairstyle, gothic and spiky and braided, still elegant. I could always count on Chase. She had become my best 'girl friend' here, so far. She was kneeling before me and fixing the deep, black kohl shadows about my eyes when I spoke casually. "So did you know about Candy Quackenbush?" She glanced up at me and held my gaze, and shook her head.

"I had no idea, Lady Izis. No one did. And I'm sure you would have known before any of us."

"I suppose..." I looked back at the mirror and watched as my eyes turned darker and darker. She whitened my face with chalk, until I appeared deathly ill. She was pattering on blush when I decided to speak again. My mind was in a rut, almost blocked, and I simply did not have the energy to try to sort through it all. "Grab me a cigar, Chase-- I'm so _anxious_." I guess she heard the ache in my voice, for she stood immediately and went hunting for my cigarillos. "Why does he have that _whore _down there?" I didn't know what it was, but I was not very much liking Ms Quackenbush as of this moment. Things were getting tense between Carrion and I, and quite obviously he would have the upper-hand in whatever sort of argument we went through. I did not have a lot of options here. Also, I couldn't possibly feel bad for just... playing around with her... just a little. Only a little. I had sharpened my skills over the past while and had learned the craft very well, for there is little else to do on Gorgossium. They say I was going insane, up there, locked in my room all the time.

I asked for a veil. I felt like mourning tonight. I fingered the rose petals that had accompanied the band for the veil, and in the mirror my face was barely visible through the mesh. I was not hungry, only thirsty. I shall dine only on wine tonight, and to hell with whatever Carrion said. As if he had the _nerve _to invite that girl into their tower... dear lord, I was starting to sound like Mater Motley. Poor girl probably didn't even know where the hell she was, let alone why she was wanted. Chase returned with my cigarillo and some matches, and I drank a glass of wine and asked Chase to sit. She sat down across from me from the vanity and she smoked a cigarillo as well with me, and we talked like old friends.

She looked very nice tonight. In the dim candlelight, her marble-smooth skin flickered with shadows. Her deep, emerald cat eyes glowed and fisured, drawing you in. White teeth accented the full, red lips. A sudden thought occured to me, as I, Queen of Midnight, looked over her most loyal maiden. "Chase..."

"Yes?"

"Are you a vampire?" She blinked at the question, not sure whether to smile or not. My face was stoic.

"No... not in that sense, my lady."

"You look beautiful tonight." I slugged back the rest of my wine, pretty much uncaring of whoever or whatever was near and watching. Chase flushed and smiled.

"Thank you, my lady."

"Of course. I suppose we should be going now." I stubbed out my smoke and arose, turning in a circle once so Chase could see that my dress was in working order. Tonight we had decided on a back-less black dress, with no straps, a dark purple shawl and high heels-- one of Carrion's outfits. I put on my jewellery and silver belt, and Chase and I linked arms and we made our way to the dinner hall. I had dropped my veil and felt much safer behind it, so no evil could look in at me. And there was much evil here, in these dark hallways-- I had just gotten used to it, and learned to become a shadow. Chase and I stopped before the massive dining hall doors, still shut. She looked at me.

"You're late. You should probably go in there." she said, doing last minute adjustments to my hair. I swatted her away lazily.

"Yes, yes. Be sure to be here, when this circus is complete." she bowed, and slunk away silently. I opened the doors to the dining hall and stepped inside.

The first thing I noticed was that it was a lot brighter in here then it usually was. Carrion had someone go through the extra trouble to have more candles lit for the human girl-- he had never done that for me, even when I had complained about the lack of light. That caused another thrum of jealousy. Carrion was sitting at the end of the table, glaring at me. Sitting at his left was a terrified looking Quackenbush, who had been forced into a simple dinner dress. She looked skinny and out of place wearing it.

"You're _late_." Carrion hissed, rising. The girl looked from me to him, obviously frightened. She must have heard the stories of Carrion's legendary cruelty-- but probably not about the only person who could stop it. I twisted my lips underneath my veil and snapped back.

"Well, you already have _company_." I said sharply, and Carrion sat down abruptly, still giving me a smouldering look. I sat down across from him, even more irked when I realized she was sitting on the side _I _always sat on. The girl was crossing her boundaries, alright. I removed my veil and I think the young woman was shocked. She stared at me, wide-eyed, and I thought quite simply, _Pintarta._ Candy Quackenbush winced, squeaked, and clapped a hand over her mouth, in pain.

"What is the matter?" Carrion asked, eyeing her with much scrutiny. He was looking for something in her, but I couldn't tell what. I hid my little smirk with a napkin. I didn't really know what was the matter with me, but it felt like this girl was _invading _the privacy of my home, and my husband. I poured myself a glass of wine, crossed my leg over the other one.

"Would you like some wine, Candy?" I asked, making my voice soft and sugary. Carrion gave me a weird look and I ignored him.

"Sure." Candy whispered, and I nodded at Carrion, who poured her a glass. She took a small sip. The silence was immense and I questioned Carrion's intelligence at inviting both us here. He had probably never had _two _woman eating dinner with him alone. I had taken a fancy to having my steak as rare as possible, even until blood was still seeping out. Candy had looked rather disgusted as I ate slowly, my gaze never leaving hers. I had practiced my stare, for it came over well with meetings with other politicians and royalty and such-- intimidating, feirce, and hypnotizing. Her own stare was small, shocked, and wild. This was unlike anything she had ever experienced before.

"So, darling, why is Candy Quackenbush suddenly a guest of honor in this household?" I asked boldly, once I was drunk. I was smoking and just finishing off my delicious steak, and I turned to my husband and let my leg slide a little farther over the other one. The slit in my dress parted and revealed much of my leg, and before I could immediately close it I figured this type of seduction could get me anything, at this point. Carrion did not miss it and he forgot about staring at Candy for a second.

"I think you have drunk too much, Izis." he pushed the wine bottle away from me and glared at me. "That is very innapropriate."

"Oh, _whatever._ Like it's anymore appropriate to keep her locked up for weeks at a time--"

"_Izis_. Don't push me." I blew smoke in his face and I thought he was going to lunge out of his seat and strangle me. Candy just stared, unsure of what was going on.

"Don't push me either, dear." I dropped my cigar in my empty glass of wine, where it smouldered with the remains of the drink. "Shall we dance?" Music always played during dinner-- no one ever danced though. Of course Carrion thought I was talking to him, but I stood up and extended my hand towards Candy. I swayed a little-- yes, I had definately succeeded in getting myself drunk, but I could still tango. If I remember right, dad taught me how to dance. I removed my shawl.

"Okay." Candy gingerly took my hand and I led her over to the floor. The hunched, deformed band played on with new enthusiasm, now that someone was appreciating their lonely, gothic two-step. I put my hand on her waist and held her other one, and she put hers on my shoulder. I began to lead her around, twirling and dipping her over, and she stumbled several times but never managed to step on my feet-- sometimes me and Samuel danced, late, late at night when no one was around. Ever danced around the gallows with the ravens calling on, and skeletons clapping? A slight, slight affair was beginning, possibly.

Candy smelled of dirt and lime. She was very pretty up close, but nothing special. I dipped her sharply and let my lips briefly touch her neck-- she tensed and I righted her quickly, leading her along. Eventually she caught on fast and stopped stumbling and tripping, and when I was finished I stepped back, holding her hands.

"Thank you, Candy. More then I could ever get out of my husband." I said quietly in her ear. She smiled a little.

"Your welcome." I let her sit back down. I glared at Carrion, who was staring back at me with an incredulous, unreadable expression on his face. "Shall I leave you two alone?"

"Yes." he said sharply. I nodded, collected my shawl, and demanded my coat. I drank another glass of wine while I waited, sometimes skewering the Nightmare Man. I was so _angry_, and hurt. My head was spinning. The anxiety, the stress, the lonliness... did he really expect me to _cope _so well? It felt like I was falling apart. I adored the solitude and the macabre and the morbid, to be sure, but this was too much. Now some girl? A girl that gave me the weirdest vibes? Something about her really turned me _off_, and I couldn't figure it out. Oh well. Chase arrived my coat, and I pulled it on and turned my shawl into a scarf.

"I'll be seeing you in a bit, Lord Carrion." I said, a tad bitterly, and left the dining hall. I banished a puzzled Chase and fled to Gallow's Forest. I planned on finding Ivan, the royal raven, and just sit amongst the skulls and bones and birds and just vent. Every girl had to vent somewhere, and here was I, barely 19 years old, already Queen of the most tormented island in the Abarat and I was slowly going insane. Perhaps I needed to travel. Perhaps claustrophobia was building up in me. And that _girl_. I exploded several trees as I made my way to the , the forest so melancholy and quiet tonight. I rather enjoyed it.

I saw the man as a fool. Foolish Carrion, he had become smitten with another girl, hasn't he? I sat on the edge of the gallow patio, and Ivan fluttered down. He had been getting bigger as the season grew colder, edging towards winter, my favourite season. He landed smartly on my knee, clucking.

"What troubles you, Queen Izis?" he asked. I sighed and let my head fall back.

"Candy Quackenbush." Several other ravens in the audience crowed and chuckled, smartly flapping their wings.

"Why, Carrion did not tell you?" Ivan asked, cocking his regal head. I shook my own. "You are aware of Princess Boa."

"Yes. She was my cousin." Ivan's eyes brightened, probably in surprise.

"Oh really? And I suppose you have not noticed, the similarities between Candy and Boa?" I blinked, and thought about it for a moment. The pieces put themselves together, and fit perfectly this time. My eyes widened in realization, and a sudden cold fury washed over me. How _dare _he. My heart clenched in pain. I stood up immediately, upsetting Ivan, who flapped overhead. Had it really happened? Was I falling in love with the Lord of Midnight? Nights had passed so long and I had only felt completely safe in Carrion's presence. I had grown fond of seeing him, our long nights together, our talks. We had grown close-- but I had not ever thought that I was falling for him. Was it even possible? I had seen for what he really was, deep underneath that scarred exterior-- a man who had walked through the abyss. I remembered the letters I had read, so long ago, between Boa and Carrion. She had led him on and on until he drove himself insane with love. And still he pursued her, even in reincarnated form.

Jealousy burned my throat, and I felt my eyes well up with tears. That _bitch_. I felt like I had to protect Carrion, as he had done for me. Then again, he would not want me now, now that the love of his life was before him. I had taken him so for granted. I slumped to my knees and began to weep. Ivan fluttered down by my feet and cooed encouragingly. "Darling, don't cry. T'is only an infatuation. When Carrion walks through here, he speaks of you quite highly."

"Leave me alone." I demanded, and Ivan obeyed, fluttering away. I got to my feet and sniffed, but the tears would not stop. I realized I loved the man, but now he had Candy to fawn over. He had never fawned over me, never, and every little thing he did for her made my heart ache. I was _heartsick_, for the first time in love, and it was with the most dangerous man in the Abarat, and he loved another person. I couldn't very well just go in there and demand that he release her, he would never do such a thing now that Candy was with him. Was he going to execute me and replace her as the bride? _No_. I would not let that happen. Never. He was not mine-- I never viewed a person to "belong" to someone else, but dear lord I _loved _the man, so much. Should I tell him?

No. I still had nightmares, recalling my encounter in the bathroom when I was almost drowned. I still had not figured out the culprit, or reported it. Except now, Carrion was the one who was drowning me. I walked the forest in despair, coming upon the graveyard. I opened the gate using my mind, and that caused a little mental stimulation that distracted from the pain I was feeling. I never thought I could be so _hurt_. I felt physically ill. I walked to my grave, my terrible mocking gravestone, and slumped before it and leaned against it, back to the stone, and looked up at the unforgiving sky. Black and more black, the stars turned red above me, and began to shine. Thoughts of suicide crossed my mind. As I fantasized, I heard the squeal of the gate being opened.

Sharply I looked. Through the darkness, I could not see, but I felt a presence there, several hundred yards away. I forgot my current predicament and felt that icy fear people felt when they knew they were not alone in the dark. My insides froze on me, and unexplained terror swallowed me. My hands turned cold and clammy in my lap and my mouth went dry as the Criss Cross Man stepped towards me.


End file.
